


Hey, Soul Sister

by TheSlytherinRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Lucius x Narcissa, Marauders' Era, Narcissa x Lucius, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, soulmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 112,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinRose/pseuds/TheSlytherinRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa hasn't yet been marked with the image of her soulmate's patronus, and after Andromeda's match turned out to be a Muggleborn, Narcissa's parents have decided to arrange her marriage and deny her a chance at love. Lucius can't stand the thought of Narcissa being forced into a loveless life, and his new mark just happens to resemble the lioness Narcissa conjured in class…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hello! I mentioned on my tumblr that I would take fic requests, and thorkys on tumblr mentioned a soulmate AU in which Hogwarts-age Lucius and Narcissa are falling in love for the first time. This is my first attempt at any sort of AU, so comments are absolutely welcomed (but please go easy on me, where possible- I'm learning as I go). My plan is to keep this one going for quite a while and work on one-shots now and then, as well. I'll update as often as I can. I would absolutely love reviews. I'll shut up now. I do not own HP, nor do I own the song "Hey, Soul Sister." Train does.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa reflects on the loss of her sister Andromeda, who was disowned for wanting to be with her soulmate. Druella is unwilling to risk a second daughter disgracing the family and decides to intervene in Narcissa's plans by arranging a marriage for her.

Narcissa sat at the foot of the bed in the room that had been vacant for the last several months, taking in the feeling of being here for the last time. She knew her parents had only refrained from removing the last of Andromeda’s things out of either laziness or disinterest and that they would surely grow tired of these reminders of their middle daughter sooner or later. Narcissa wanted one more moment to pretend her sister might walk through the door at any time and ask her to listen to some thrilling story told in that breathless, passionate way Andromeda had always spoken in when she’d allowed herself to enjoy her life outside of the restrictions Cygnus and Druella imposed on their daughters.

            As Narcissa ran her fingertips gently over the shape her sister had carved into the edge of the footboard, she remembered Andromeda’s explanation of why the image was so important.

* * *

 

            _“It’s just like the one on my shoulder, Cissy. See?” Andromeda shrugged her robe from her shoulder and pulled her wavy brown hair to the side, allowing her younger sister a better view of the smooth silver lines that had materialized on her pale skin overnight in the outline of a dog. With her free hand, Andromeda tapped the spot on the footboard where she had used a spell to replicate the image._

_“Why do you want it there?” asked Narcissa, nodding toward the carving as she leaned back against her sister’s pillows. “Aren’t you worried Mum and Dad will strangle you?”_

_Andromeda laughed, pulling her robe back up over her nightgown and letting her hair fall into place again before she scooted back to sit beside Narcissa._

_“I can’t see the one on my shoulder very well, and having it on the bed gives me a way to remind myself that things are going to be okay. I really don’t care what they think of it. It just proves they have no idea what they’re talking about, anyway.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You know how it works, don’t you?” Andromeda lay down, propping her elbow on the pillows and resting her chin on her hand as she watched Narcissa closely. The younger Black fidgeted a bit, glancing away from her sister as she felt the heat beginning to rise in her cheeks._

_“Sort of,” said Narcissa. “I know an animal of some sort shows up somewhere on a witch or wizard’s body when the person has met their soulmate.”_

_“Well, almost. It’s when you really form a connection with the person you’re meant to spend your life with—your soulmate, yes. It’s not enough to just meet them.”_

_Narcissa sighed lightly. “Okay, you have to connect with them. I understand.”_

_“And the animal that appears isn’t random,” said Andromeda. “It’s your soulmate’s patronus. Essentially, it’s like having a representation of that person’s soul appear on you when you’re ready to embrace the idea that you’re meant to be together. Isn’t that romantic?”_

_Narcissa nodded, but she said nothing. She agreed. It was probably the most romantic idea she’d ever heard, and the magic responsible for such a thing must’ve been ancient and highly powerful, to affect anyone in the Wizarding population at any given time. Still, she couldn’t imagine the pressure it would put on someone to be living normally one day and find out the next that she’d met the one person who she could ever truly be happy with. She’d heard of too many instances of people attempting to defy this magic to find the idea completely comforting. Andromeda had said the patronus image appeared when someone was ready, but in Narcissa’s experience, the people who had acquired the tattoo-like images hadn’t always considered themselves ready for the idea. The magic had deemed them prepared, but she’d known at least three of her classmates to refuse to cooperate, continuing in other relationships despite the knowledge that they were doomed to unhappiness and alienating their soulmates in the process. Nickolas Crabbe and Rosalyn Selwyn had been close friends until the appearance of their images had made things incredibly awkward within their group, as Nickolas had been dating Alecto Carrow at the time and refused to end the relationship based on the emergence of a fox on his upper arm._

_The entire process was alarming to Narcissa. She loved the idea of finding someone who was perfect for her as no one else could be, and at Hogwarts, she often found herself wondering if one of her friends or housemates would be revealed as her match. At the same time, however, she had developed an unshakable fear in response to what she’d seen: what if her match refused her, as Nickolas had done with Rosalyn? What if he disliked the idea of Narcissa as his soulmate and she, knowing she would never be able to love anyone else quite as much, was left alone?_

_“Cissy, are you okay?”_

_Narcissa blinked away her worried thoughts and returned her focus to Andromeda, who was watching her with a concerned frown._

_“I’m fine. Sorry, just thinking.”_

_Andromeda reached out to take Narcissa’s hand in both of her own, which were considerably warmer. Narcissa was always cold in her parents’ house._

_“You’ll find your match,” said Andromeda. “I know you will. And you’ll be so happy.”_

_“Like you.” Narcissa bit back a sigh. She was thrilled for her sister’s happiness, but she was also apprehensive. Andromeda had told her nothing about whoever the dog patronus belonged to, and the two had never kept secrets from one another before. Narcissa doubted this was a good sign. “Are you planning to tell me who’s walking around wearing your patronus, now? Or am I going to have to ad-lib my maid-of-honor speech? That’s really not fair, Andi. I can’t very well plan your wedding if you won’t tell me about—”_

_“Narcissa.” Andromeda shook her head, a small, sad smile on her lips. “First of all, yes, you would be my first choice for maid-of-honor. But for right now, it’s better if you don’t know who he is.”_

_“Why?” Narcissa pressed. “I’m not going to say anything to our parents—or even to Bella. And she’s too preoccupied with whatever the Dark Lord’s got her doing to nose into your business on her own. What do you think it could possibly hurt to just tell me?”_

_“I don’t want you to suffer for knowing. Whatever’s going to happen… I want it to fall on just me.”_

_Narcissa frowned. “What do you mean? If he’s really your soulmate, why would anyone punish you for being together?”_

_Andromeda sat up and leaned forward to embrace Narcissa tightly. “Just remember I love you, okay? And always follow what your heart tells you, not what Mum and Dad say. I just want you to be happy.”_

_Narcissa blinked, returning her sister’s hug as she attempted to understand what Andromeda was really trying to say. If something drastic was coming and Andromeda planned to bear the full weight of it despite the help the younger Black was willing to offer, Narcissa wished her sister would at least warn her about what type of disaster she needed to shield herself from. “I love you, too,” said Narcissa at last. “But stop talking like you’re leaving. You promised we would get to spend this summer together when I got back from school. I’ve been home three days. You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”_

_Andromeda laughed quietly. “Stop worrying. Come on, let’s go get breakfast.”_

* * *

 

“You weren’t supposed to leave,” breathed Narcissa now, pulling her fingers back from the dog carving with a shake of her head that displaced a lock of blond hair into her face. She brushed it away and slid off the bed and to her feet, treading quickly out the door and down the hall toward her own room without looking back.

            Her trunk lay open on her bed, her clothes folded neatly within and ready to be transported the following morning. She’d spent the first few weeks after Andromeda’s departure in denial, telling herself that her parents couldn’t possibly be this unreasonable. It wasn’t her sister’s fault that the stupid magical tattoo happened to match the patronus of a Muggleborn wizard. It wasn’t as though Andromeda had been given a choice as to whom the universe decided she was meant to be with.

            The sound of footsteps approaching from outside the room drew Narcissa’s attention, and she tensed on instinct. She recognized the gait by sound as belonging to her mother, and it was through sheer willpower that Narcissa managed to resist the urge to let her hands constrict into fists.

            “I’ve spoken with the Rowles,” said Druella’s voice. Her tone was bored; Narcissa imagined her mother was likely the only witch capable of discussing the plans she’d made for her daughter’s future in the same cold alto she applied to ordering a house elf to wash the linens.

            “What did they say?” asked Narcissa, solely out of obligation. She couldn’t have cared less what Thomas and Hattie Rowle had to say about her, and the idea that her own parents were actually considering forcing her into an arranged marriage with Thorfinn was enough to bring a sickening taste to her mouth.

            “That you’re suitable enough and they’ll get back to us on what date works best for a ceremony.”

            Tears bit at the edges of Narcissa’s eyes as she stared deliberately at her pale blue curtains, continuing to face completely away from her mother with no intention of turning around.

            “‘Suitable enough.’ Thanks, Mother.”

            “Those were Thomas’s words, Narcissa. Stop being so unreasonable. It’s a marriage, not a death sentence.”

            _Actually, with Thorfinn_ , thought Narcissa, _I’m pretty sure it’s both._

            “So because Andi’s soulmate was someone you didn’t approve of,” she said, fighting hard to keep the anger from her tone but not completely succeeding, “you’re not even going to give me the chance to meet mine? To actually fall in love?”

            “We aren’t taking that chance again,” said Druella simply, and her words were punctuated by the sound of her footsteps retreating. Narcissa remained still for several moments longer apart from the trembling that had spread through her as her body’s way of releasing her fury. When she was certain her mother had gone far enough away not to hear, she made her way to the door and slammed it shut, leaning back against the dark wood and closing her eyes tightly.

            _Tomorrow,_ she told herself, _I’ll be back at Hogwarts. I won’t have to deal with any of this right away. Bella’s occupied with the Dark Lord, and Andi… isn’t around. But at least I’ll have my friends._

            Narcissa opened her eyes and made her way toward her trunk, lifting a small frame with an enchanted photograph from where she’d lain it next to one of her blouses. The image in the frame was that of herself with a group of her housemates—the girls she’d roomed with since first year and several members of the Quidditch team, including Lucius Malfoy, who smiled up at her from the frame with his arm around the shoulders of her photographed self. At the very least, she would have him to talk to, when she returned.

            _One more day. Then I’ll be far away from here._

           

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While preparing to return to Hogwarts for his final year, Lucius watches a pair of his friends who've discovered they're soulmates and wonders whether his will surface in the near future.

Lucius stared at the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_ without seeing a word on the pages. He found himself distracted by the shameless flirting transpiring on the sofa across from him between Walden Macnair and Lenore Brown, which Augustus Rookwood was attempting to put a stop to by pelting the two periodically with Bertie Bott’s beans from the chair next to Lucius.

            “I’m going to strangle the lot of you if you don’t knock it off.” Lucius gave in at last and folded the newspaper, setting it on the table beside him as he watched Walden play with Lenore’s long, red hair. It was somewhat jarring to watch Walden so completely taken with one person; he’d been one of Lucius’s closest friends since their first year at Hogwarts, and in that time, he’d burned through more relationships than Lucius had realized there were women in the castle. Walden had never been one to commit to someone for longer than a month, and even that was optimistic. That had changed, though, with the appearance of a mark in the shape of a fox on the back of Walden’s right hand. Lucius caught sight of it as Walden deftly deflected a bean that had been on a collision course with Lenore’s face.

            “Why all of us?” Walden asked Lucius before shooting a glare in Augustus’s direction. “He’s the one who’s being an arse.”

            “And you two are being sickening,” said Augustus, inspecting the bean he’d plucked from the box, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth wasting as ammunition, and eating it.

            “I have to agree with that.” Lucius sighed. “Just remember, Rookwood, you’re picking the beans up eventually. It’s hard enough to persuade Father to let you come over when you _aren’t_ making a mess of the lounge.”

            “Your mother seems to like us, at least,” said Lenore. “She complimented my dress, earlier.”

            “You do look lovely in it,” said Walden.

            Augustus wretched. “Give it a rest, Macnair.”

            “Mother likes _you_ , at least,” said Lucius to Lenore, ignoring the others to the best of his ability. “You didn’t set her curtains on fire the last time you were over.” He shot a pointed look at Walden, who shrugged.

            “I apologized thoroughly and offered to mend them.”

            “And the last time you tried to mend anything, I ended up in the Hospital Wing,” said Lucius, rolling his eyes. “I should’ve settled for torn robes. Skele-Gro sucks, you know.”

            Lenore watched Walden with wide eyes. “How do you mess up that badly?”

            “We’ve been asking him that for years,” said Augustus, tossing a bean squarely into Walden’s forehead.

            “Why’re you ganging up on me?” Walden protested. “I thought we were supposed to gang up on whoever was dumb enough to host us.”

            “I can just as easily toss you out,” said Lucius with a shrug.

            “You’d miss us.”

            “Try me, Walden.” Still, Lucius couldn’t completely fight off a smile. Yes, his friends were nearly always infuriating, but they were also entertaining. He couldn’t imagine handling school without them.

            “Lucius.”

            Closing his eyes, Lucius sighed. He’d hoped his friends could manage not to draw the attention of his father, but he’d known that was about as likely as them staying out of trouble altogether. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to find Abraxas standing in the lounge’s doorway, his cloak draped over his arm.

            “Yes, Father?” asked Lucius, starting toward the elder Malfoy cautiously. Abraxas beckoned his son into the corridor, and Lucius followed, rolling his shoulders back and bracing himself for the reprimand he was certain was soon to come.

            The pair walked in silence apart from the echo of their footsteps on the polished floor, and for a moment, Lucius was left to his thoughts. He’d left his trunk upstairs, half-packed and awaiting the moment he resigned himself to the idea of returning to Hogwarts for his final year and finished sorting his belongings to determine what to bring. He was more than ready to be away from the Manor, currently, and he intended to make his last Quidditch season a memorable one by wiping the floor with the other teams, but he wasn’t entirely prepared for the change in the group dynamic, now that Walden had encountered his soulmate.

            Abraxas turned a corner and came to a halt, turning to face Lucius with his mouth pressed into a thin line.

            “I’ve been called away.”

            Lucius tensed slightly, and he only hoped his father hadn’t noticed. He knew exactly what Abraxas meant without further elaboration: he had been summoned on a task for the Dark Lord, and he wasn’t likely to say when he would return. Even though Lucius was in training to serve the Dark Lord himself, he was told very little about missions in which he wasn’t involved, and his father was in the Death Eaters’ inner circle. Abraxas had stated years earlier that his work was too important to chance spoiling it, if someone were to slip up and reveal more than they’d intended. Lucius tried not to take it personally. Still, that was much easier said than done.

            “If I don’t return before you leave for school…” Abraxas paused and let out a sigh. “Stay out of trouble.”

            “I’m Head Boy, Father. What do you imagine I’ll do?” Lucius regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken them. He rarely spoke out-of-turn to his father, as he didn’t particularly care for Abraxas’s temper, but the warning had irked him. Was he really deserving of such little faith? Yes, he’d been involved in a number of pranks and the like over the course of his schooling, but most had never been able to be traced back to him, and given his academic success and leadership capabilities, Dumbledore had still trusted him enough to promote him from Prefect starting this term.

            Abraxas’s jaw clenched, but Lucius stood his ground, refusing to lower his gaze from his father’s.

            “I imagine you’ll let those fools get away with a lot more than they should,” said Abraxas, pointing over his son’s shoulder toward the lounge. “You already have, tonight. If the mess isn’t cleaned up after they’ve gone—”

            “It will be,” Lucius insisted. “I give you my word. And this year will be fine. I won’t disappoint you, you know.”

            Abraxas reached out to lay a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He opened his mouth as though he planned to speak, shut it again, and attempted it once more a moment later. “I know,” he said at last. He removed his hand and began to pull on his cloak. When he spoke again, whatever warmth he had come close to allowing himself to show had dissipated as quickly as it had come, and Lucius bit back a sigh at the predictability of the change. He didn’t know what he’d expected. “Still, there are more productive ways you could be spending your last night at home than watching your friends throw sweets at one another. Have you been reading up on the spells you were supposed to learn?”

            “Of course. I’m not going to disappoint the Dark Lord either.”

            Abraxas’s grey eyes narrowed, and he raised a finger to his lips. Lucius struggled to keep the exasperation from his tone when he continued.

            “Augustus and Walden are in training as well, and Lenore is fully aware of that. We don’t need to worry about them, Father.”

            “Don’t we?” Abraxas raised a brow. “You know, the last person who let something slip to the Ministry was one of ours, too, and it was supposedly by accident. You know what the Dark Lord did to him?”

            Lucius said nothing.

            “Let’s just say they never found the entirety of his body. Son, I just want you to be careful. You think you can trust people, but they’re never who you think they are.”

            Lucius nodded, hoping to placate his father enough to bring the speech to an end. He wasn’t certain what exactly had jaded Abraxas badly enough to leave him with such little trust in others, but he believed it had taken place long before the dismembering of the unfortunate man who had let out one of the Dark Lord’s secrets.

            “Be safe,” said Lucius. Abraxas nodded and turned away, starting down the corridor.

            Lucius returned to the lounge in considerably lower spirits than he had left it, which did not go unnoticed by the others.

            “I hope we haven’t gotten you in trouble,” said Lenore, frowning from where she leaned on Walden’s shoulder.

            “No, no.” Lucius shook his head and sank into his chair again, propping his elbow on its arm and resting his chin on his fist. “He just wanted to make sure I knew not to make an idiot of myself when we go back, tomorrow.”

            “Hope you told him that ship had already sailed,” said Augustus, leaning over to offer Lucius the box of Bertie Bott’s.

            “Remind me why I put up with any of you.” Lucius grinned, fishing in the box for a bean that wouldn’t ruin the remainder of his evening.

            “We keep your life interesting?” offered Walden, raising a glass he must’ve procured from the bar while Lucius had been out of the room.

            “Yes, that’s the word for it.”

            Lucius watched as Walden took a drink from the glass, trying to ignore the urge to wonder what his friend had stolen from the bar and the notion that he himself would probably be blamed for it, when his father noticed it was missing. Instead, Lucius focused on the silver mark on the back of Walden’s hand, and he found himself wondering when he would find himself affected by the same magic. Whose soul would he one day find reflected somewhere on his person? His friends, at least, had been lucky; Walden and Lenore appeared to be a good match. Their public displays, at times, but Lucius attempted to refrain from passing judgment on that matter. He didn’t know, after all, how he would react if and when he found his own match.

            He only hoped it would be soon. After one more year at Hogwarts, he had the feeling his life would be so consumed by his duties that beginning a relationship would be incredibly dangerous for all involved. If he met her beforehand, though, he would hopefully be able to convince her not to run in terror from what he was expected to become.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the ride to Hogwarts while performing her Prefect duties, Narcissa encounters Thorfinn, who gives her trouble. Lucius intervenes.

_Just keep your eyes forward and ignore him, and it’ll be fine._

            Narcissa held fast to the handle of her trunk, training her focus on the crawl of the crowd in front of her and doing her best to avoid acknowledging the sight of Thorfinn Rowle lingering in the doorway of a compartment to her right, his mouth set in a smirk she could identify even from the side and at a distance, so often had she seen it twist his lips. He was, no doubt, bragging about something to whoever was in the compartment.

            _Find your seat and pretend he doesn’t exist._

            She knew that wouldn’t work for long; when the Hogwarts Express arrived at the castle, trying to avoid anyone in Slytherin would be fighting a losing battle. For now, though, she could hopefully focus on her Prefect duties and distract herself from her severe irritation with her mother.

            Druella had never bothered herself with trying to understand or consider her youngest daughter’s feelings. She’d already had two daughters to deal with and attempt to control, and if Narcissa wasn’t going to impress her parents by being the son they’d wanted, then the girl was to be treated as the hassle she’d never chosen to be and taught through intimidation to obey the strict rules of decorum for a female Pureblood in order to make the lives of those parents easier. If she was too frightened to disobey them, Cygnus and Druella needn’t worry about her bringing shame to the family. Over the last few years, Narcissa had come to realize just how deeply she resented them for this treatment and had begun to speak out in her own defense more frequently, which only served to anger her mother, but Narcissa didn’t care. She had told herself that as soon as she graduated from Hogwarts, she would leave home and the sphere of her parents’ influence—that after she was of age and had completed her education, they could do nothing to her. She hadn’t dared to imagine that they would go far enough as to attempt to rob her of one of the most important choices of her life and one that would impact her forever.

            _It’s sickening._

            Her heart thumped obnoxiously in her ears, and she forced in a deep breath, trying to rid herself of the irritation that had dominated her thoughts since she’d been given the news. Surely she could find something else to focus on. She strode past Thorfinn without glancing again in his direction, and she ignored the snickering that followed her past the compartment, distracting herself by staring at the shoes of a nervous-looking first-year several paces ahead of her and wondering where the Sorting Hat would place the girl.

            Shortly, Narcissa reached the Prefects’ carriage and stowed her trunk before settling into an empty seat with a book she doubted she would have the time or the peace of mind to focus on reading. She watched as the other Prefects sat down and searched the carriage for familiar faces, quickly spotting Gabriel Travers, the other Slytherin representative from Narcissa’s year, and Dorcas Meadowes, the Gryffindor Head Girl with whom Narcissa had never gotten along particularly well, among others she recognized and a few fifth-years she didn’t.

            She wasn’t entirely ready to resign herself to this group for the duration of the trip. Narcissa closed her book and laid it in her seat, pinning her badge to her chest before stepping out of the carriage to pace the immediate area as the train began to move, deciding now was as good a time as any to begin her duties. She caught sight of a few first-year stragglers still searching for seats and helped them to locate compartments with spaces still available, and soon, she began to allow herself to relax. The corridor was relatively quiet, and for a few moments, she enjoyed the peace.

            “I wondered when you’d come to see me.”

            Narcissa froze, closing her eyes and inwardly chastising herself for moving close enough to the compartment she’d been trying to avoid for Thorfinn to catch sight of her.

            “I didn’t. Just doing my job, Thorfinn.”

            Grudgingly, she turned to face him. He stood in the doorway to his compartment, watching her with that irritating smirk and a gleam in his dark eyes she didn’t remotely care for.

            “You should really be more polite, you know,” said Thorfinn, shifting his weight to lean against the doorframe. “I don’t believe I’ll enjoy dealing with that sort of attitude, when we’re married.”

            Narcissa rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “We’ve known about this for a day and you’re already deciding what you’d like to change about me? Lovely. I’m greatly looking forward to what the rest of our lives will hold.”

            “ _You’ve_ known about it for a day.” Thorfinn pushed off the doorframe and started toward Narcissa slowly, his arms folded over his chest and his gaze fixed on hers with the same intensity a wolf might turn on a deer while planning his next move. “I’ve been discussing the matter with my parents for quite a while, now. I suppose yours just waited to tell you until things were final.”

            “How kind of them. Goodbye, Thorfinn.”

            Fuming, Narcissa turned away, striding quickly down the corridor. She’d made it only a few compartments down, however, when he caught up to her, grabbing hold of her wrist.

            “I thought you might at least want to get to know me before you started acting this way.”

            Narcissa pulled against his grip, reaching into the pocket of her robes for her wand. “First off: let go of me. Now. Second: I know everything I need to know about you. You’re a git, and if it weren’t for my parents, I wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

            Thorfinn held tighter to Narcissa’s wrist, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “That’s no way to talk to your future—”

            “I’d let her go, Rowle, unless you’d like the detention you’ve already earned yourself to turn into something worse.”

            Narcissa had produced her wand and was preparing to send a mild hex in Thorfinn’s direction when the voice drew her attention, and she turned her head to find Lucius Malfoy standing a few paces away, his gaze fixed on the pair and his “Head Boy” badge challenging Thorfinn to question him. Thorfinn slowly relinquished his hold on Narcissa’s wrist, and she lowered her wand, taking a step back.

            “Always a pest, Malfoy. You should stay out of my business.”

            “It’s more than just your business, Rowle. Get back to your seat.”

            “I’m sure Slughorn will love to hear you’re abusing your power to give detentions when I haven’t done anything.”

            Narcissa laughed shortly, and Thorfinn turned his glare on her, opening his mouth to speak again before Lucius cut him off.

            “Let’s make it two detentions, then, and give you something to whine to Slughorn about. To your seat, or I’ll make it three.”

            For a long moment, Thorfinn stared at Lucius, hatred etched in each line of his face, and then he turned away, bumping deliberately into the other boy’s arm on his way back to his compartment and shutting the door behind him.

            “Are you all right?”

            Narcissa hadn’t realized how rapidly her heart was beating until it was the only sound apart from the movement of the train. She looked to Lucius, fighting down the embarrassment that she felt beginning to turn her pale cheeks pink.

            “I’m fine, I had it under control, I—” She sighed, gathering from his expression that he neither believed her nor judged her for what had happened, and started again. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

            Lucius shrugged. “I’ve seen him act like an idiot a million times. I just didn’t want him to get the idea that it’s okay to do that to you.”

            The heat in Narcissa’s cheeks rose, and as she stowed her wand, she took a step toward Lucius. “Thank you. Hello, by the way. I didn’t see you in the carriage.”

            “I started rounds early, and it looks like I’m not the only one.” Lucius smiled. “Perhaps we should stick together while we check the rest of the train? It’ll give us time to catch up.”

            Narcissa nodded. “Hope you don’t mind my ranting. This summer was… atrocious, actually. There’s no nice way to put it.”

            “When have I ever minded your ranting?” Lucius stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between them to embrace Narcissa for a moment. She returned the gesture, relaxing a bit in his arms now that she felt safe with him, away from Thorfinn and from her parents.

            “Never,” she said when she leaned back at last and the two started down the corridor side-by-side, “and I appreciate it. Before I get started, though, what about you? How’ve you been?”

            “Bored. Listening to Father go on about politics is almost enough to kill my interest in it, but not quite. He can take the fun out of just about anything.”

            Narcissa laughed. “What’s he complaining about?”

            “He thinks the Ministry’s getting too lax on their policies regarding Wizarding secrecy. He thinks anyone caught letting Muggles in on our world should essentially be executed or sent to Azkaban, and it’s not that I entirely disagree, but he’s rubbish at explaining his reasoning. It’s like listening to Binns for hours on end, and who wants that?”

            Shaking her head, Narcissa smiled. “I can’t imagine anyone would.”

            Lucius chuckled. “No one in their right mind, anyway. What about you, though? What was Rowle going to say, earlier?” The mirth left Lucius’s eyes as he spoke, replaced quickly by what Narcissa had known him long enough to recognize as worry. Her own face fell, as well. She’d hoped he wouldn’t return to the topic of Thorfinn so quickly. She knew he’d done so out of concern for her well-being, but still, she had been trying to pretend the altercation hadn’t taken place at all.

            “It’s a long, irritating story, Lucius. It’s about half the reason I’m glad to be getting away.”

            “Well, I’ve got time, if you feel like talking about it.”

            Narcissa drew in a deep breath, mentally sifting through her words to determine the best way to begin. “I’m sure you heard about what happened to Andi,” she said at last. Her voice left her lips much more quietly than she’d planned; she hadn’t yet spoken to any of her friends about her sister’s disownment, and she hadn’t accounted for how difficult it would be to bring up.

            Lucius nodded slowly, and Narcissa wondered what he was thinking. She knew he was about as likely to approve of Andromeda’s decision to pursue a relationship with a Muggleborn as were her parents, and Narcissa herself wasn’t fond of the idea, but she’d done her best to suspend judgment when she’d understood that Andromeda and Ted were undeniably soulmates, magically predestined for one another. Surely an exception could be made in this instance, or so Narcissa had thought. Apparently, at least in her family, she’d been the only one to think so.

            Lucius didn’t comment on that particular aspect of the situation. “How are you doing, with it?” he asked instead. “I know you two have always been close. I can’t imagine what it’s like, with her gone.”

            Narcissa shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve managed.”

            “That’s not really an answer, Cissy.”

            She sighed, looking up at him as they walked. She saw no reason to lie to him. She trusted Lucius, and she appreciated his efforts to determine how she was feeling.

            “I miss her all the time. Sometimes I wish I could stop—that I could forget, like my parents have seemed to, when they aren’t using her as an example of everything they think I’ll turn into if they don’t keep me on a tight enough leash.” Narcissa tried to keep the bitterness from her tone, but she doubted she’d succeeded. “Anyway, essentially, they’ve decided that the best course of action is to make sure I don’t accidentally end up with the ‘wrong person’ too by forcing me to marry Thorfinn instead of waiting to find my match.”

            At this, Lucius stopped walking, turning to face Narcissa with his grey eyes wide. “You’re joking.”

            Narcissa raised a brow, halting in her steps beside him. “You really think I could make up something that asinine?”

            “No, but I really hoped they weren’t mad enough to try it.”

            “But you know they are.” She glanced away for a moment, feeling suddenly self-conscious, now that he knew the depth of her horrible situation. Would he judge her for being unable to stop it? Rationally, she knew that idea was ridiculous; he’d never done anything of the sort. Still, though, she’d spent the better part of the last day judging herself for being unable to see a way out of this disaster, and she knew she wouldn’t be entirely able to blame him if he did the same.

            Instead, Lucius rested a hand on Narcissa’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s… completely ludicrous and incredibly unfair.”

            She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, and she fought them off before looking at him again. “Thank you. Let’s talk about something else, please. I can’t handle any more of this, right now.” Narcissa began walking again, and Lucius lowered his hand from her shoulder and did the same.

            “I have to say, I’m ready for Quidditch season to get moving. I’ve a feeling we’re going to destroy the other teams, this time around. You’ll come and see us, won’t you?”

            At Lucius’s willingness to change the subject so abruptly, Narcissa had to smile. She couldn’t describe how much she appreciated his friendship, and at the moment, it was one of the few things to which she could still cling.

            “I wouldn’t miss it,” she said.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius contemplates why Narcissa's predicament bothers him as much as it does. After the two have a few moments alone together in the Common Room, the likeness of a patronus appears on his back.

Lucius held open the door to the Prefects’ carriage and nodded to Narcissa, who stepped inside with a word of thanks and settled into her seat. He watched her for a moment—a moment too long, perhaps, he thought as he shook his head and moved into the carriage, hoping she hadn’t noticed—and wondered exactly what he’d done to deserve the companionship and respect of someone like her. Even in the face of her parents’ absurd demands and manipulations, Narcissa remained composed, or at least vastly more so than Lucius believed he would’ve, in a similar situation. He’d never known her to be confrontational. She was always patient, enduring more than he thought she should and only rarely striking back. When she did, though, she could be dangerous.

            He’d seen her preparing to use magic against Rowle, and in all honesty, Lucius had almost looked the other way. He’d seen enough of what had been happening in the moments leading up to that one to want to attack Rowle himself, and he’d been curious to see what creative decision Narcissa would’ve made as far as hexing the prat. However, Thorfinn Rowle was one of the coldest, most vengeful people Lucius had ever had the misfortune of working with, and on the off-chance Narcissa didn’t find a way out of her parents’ plan, Lucius hadn’t wanted to give Thorfinn a reason to direct that side of his personality toward her. He’d intervened, and now, hopefully, Rowle’s rage would be focused on Lucius, who knew to be on his guard in case Rowle let a curse slip in his direction on their next task for the Dark Lord, as he’d done to Nickolas Crabbe after the boy had insulted Rowle one too many times.

            Lucius exchanged glances with Dorcas Meadowes, who nodded, gestured to one of the young Ravenclaw Prefects, and led her out the door to take over rounds throughout the train. Lucius slipped through the crowded compartment and dropped into the vacant seat beside Gabriel Travers in the row across the aisle from where Narcissa sat reading, a lock of her blond hair having fallen in her face.

            _She deserves better_ , he thought.

            He looked away, directing his focus out the train window as the countryside whipped past, drenched in the orange light of sunset. He needed to find something else to focus on. The longer he thought about the injustice of what Narcissa was going through, the angrier it made him, and he knew it was none of his business. He needed to let her handle it how she saw fit.

            _But she shouldn’t have to deal with it at all._

            Lucius sighed under his breath, nearly as frustrated with himself as he was with the situation. Why couldn’t he let it go? He told himself it was a matter of principle—that he would’ve been just as agitated if any of his other friends were going through something so unfair. He couldn’t deny, though, that things had always been different with her. Walden, Augustus, the rest of Lucius’s friends… they invited danger and conflict and often embraced it. Lucius knew he would be lying to say that they didn’t at times _deserve_ it, himself included. At seventeen, he’d already done quite a few things he wasn’t proud of in order to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. How many of his peers, he wondered as he watched trees fly past him on the other side of the glass, had already used two of the three Unforgivable Curses? Lucius had, and if the boy sitting beside him followed through with his plan to join the Death Eaters, he soon wouldn’t be the only one even among the school’s Prefects.

            He found himself in a precarious position, returning to Hogwarts with the war beginning to gain momentum. He believed he was prepared to face whatever that might mean, and he hoped the others were, as well. Narcissa, though… she should have been safe. She’d never agreed to fight, and she’d never harmed anyone, to Lucius’s knowledge. Whatever he might’ve earned in penance for his decisions, she hadn’t. She was innocent, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her being forced to wed someone who not only prized innocence roughly as highly as he would a ruined bit of parchment but often actively sought to destroy it.

            _This is not your fight. And even if it was, dwelling on it right now isn’t going to do you any good. It’s not like he’ll try anything now, anyway._

Before his thoughts could circle back to trying to justify his concern, Lucius produced his wand and summoned a book from the trunk he’d left at the other end of the carriage, and he spent the remainder of the trip pretending to be engrossed in a particularly dry biography of Merlin while trying hard to stop thinking about the girl across the aisle.

* * *

“…And while I will not deny that this danger exists within our world, I assure you that here at Hogwarts, each and every one of you is perfectly safe. Therefore, please, enjoy your meal, and enjoy another year of education toward becoming the fine young witches and wizards I know you are all destined to be.”

            The white-bearded, purple-robed man brought his hands together, and the tables filled instantly with the same overabundance of food Lucius had grown accustomed to seeing at each start-of-term feast since the beginning of his schooling. He lifted his hands in polite applause along with the rest of the students as Dumbledore sat once again, but he did not let his focus linger on the Headmaster for longer than necessary. Lucius doubted he would’ve been chosen for his position if Dumbledore suspected him of anything, but Dumbledore always seemed to know more than he reasonably should have about the goings-on at Hogwarts, and his gaze had drifted over the Slytherin table too many times during his speech about remaining strong in the face of brewing conflict for Lucius to feel completely comfortable.

            He attempted to keep his thoughts positive as he ate, joining in the conversations surrounding him when necessary and swatting Walden’s hand away when he attempted to steal the last biscuit from Lucius’s plate. After the meal, he led the newly-sorted first-years to the Slytherin Common Room, delivering as he walked the speech he’d rehearsed dozens of times over the holidays concerning the ideals of ambition and cunning and making sure the new students realized how proud they should be to find themselves in the company of such great wizards as the one whose biography Lucius had nearly fallen asleep staring at on the train. Naturally, he left this part out, not wanting to put the students off quite yet based on how grueling and tedious the actual studying could be, even at a school as fascinating as Hogwarts. He fielded a handful of questions from the first-years and introduced them to their Prefects, insisting that the students approach them or himself with any further questions or concerns that might arise later, and sent them to bed.

            “I think I’ll join them, if you lot don’t mind,” said Gabriel, glancing among those remaining in the Common Room after the first-years had gone. “It’s been quite a long day.”

            “You didn’t even go on rounds,” said a fifth-year Lucius wasn’t highly familiar with. Alistair Fawley, he believed. “You made Meadowes take your shift.”

            Gabriel shrugged. “She was willing to do it.”

            “Yeah, so she can rat you out later to Dumbledore for being useless.”

            “Just go to bed,” said Lucius with a sigh. “Everybody. You all did well today, Gabriel aside. But today’s just the beginning of what looks like it’s going to be a very long year, so don’t get complacent. Now goodnight.”

            The group hesitated for a moment and then began to disperse, people talking amongst themselves as they filtered out of the room and made their way to their dormitories. Eventually, Lucius was left with only Narcissa, who sat on the arm of a leather sofa with her ankles crossed.

            “Don’t make me write you a detention for not listening,” he said, cracking a smile.

            “Now that I’d like to see.” She laughed softly, but the mirth left her expression as quickly as it had come. “Are you worried at all about what Dumbledore said tonight? He didn’t mention any names, but I know one of the attacks he talked about… Bella said something was going to happen there, and I haven’t heard from her since—”

            “Cissy, we can’t talk about this here.”

            “Everyone else is—”

            “It doesn’t matter if they’re out of the room.” Lucius shook his head and moved closer, sitting down on the sofa beside her and lowering his voice. “You know the people aren’t the only things that can talk, around here.” He glanced to a portrait of a sour-looking wizard on the wall and then returned his gaze to hers. “Your sister’s fine. Yes, she was involved in that, but it went as planned and she’s all right. And that’s all I can say.”

            Narcissa sighed, shifting her focus to the floor in front of them. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be asking these things. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to hear it talked about in front of the whole school, and my mind’s taken all the rubbish it can handle, for the day. You’re right, I should go to bed.” She leaned forward and embraced him. “Thanks again for earlier. And, well, for doing rounds with me. You’re a lot more fun to talk to than Dorcas.”

            Lucius laughed—and then he froze as he felt the quick, soft brush of lips on his cheek.

            “Night.”

            Narcissa climbed off the arm of the sofa and slipped out of the room so quickly that Lucius almost didn’t catch the blush tinting her cheeks. Almost.

            He sat, stunned, for several long moments, wondering what exactly had just happened. When he eventually managed to find the will to stand and make his way to his dormitory, he still hadn’t made sense of it.

            _Don’t overthink this. Don’t. She was just thanking you for not being an arse like the rest of them and got a bit carried away. She probably wasn’t thinking completely clearly. Would you be, after the day she had?_

            “You look like you’ve either seen Peeves or been punched in the face. Your face looks about the same level of messed up as normal and Peeves is usually bothering first-years around this time, so what’s up?”

            “Go away, Augustus.”

            Lucius rolled his eyes and pretended not to notice that his friend and roommate was watching him as he laid his trunk on the bed and began sorting through it for nightclothes.

            “I sort of live here, mate.”

            “I wonder if seven years in is too late to request a transfer,” said Lucius, shrugging off his robes and the shirt beneath as he started to dress for bed.

            “I’d wager it probably—hold on! Well, I’ll be damned!”

            “Yes, you will—is this news? Where’s Walden, anyway? And what about—?”

            “Shut it for a second. Lucius, go look in the mirror.”

            Lucius frowned, laying down the shirt he’d grabbed to change into and turning to face Augustus at last where he sat on the next bed over.

            “Why? What’s gotten into you?”

            “Go look at your back. You, sir, must’ve met your match.”

            _…Oh hell._


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While fretting over whether the lapse in judgment that led her to kiss Lucius will ruin their friendship, Narcissa receives a letter from Andromeda that adds to her worries. Thorfinn disapproves of the closeness between Narcissa and Lucius.

Narcissa stared down at her breakfast, picking at a piece of toast that had looked vastly more appealing before she’d taken it onto her plate. She knew she should be focused on the lessons she would be starting today, but try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened after the rest of the Prefects had left her and Lucius alone. She’d lain awake mentally screaming at herself for allowing such a lapse in her self-control, and the worst part by far was that she couldn’t understand what had come over her. She had been incredibly grateful for his kindness, his willingness to endure her questions about Bellatrix, and his defending her on the train. That was it, wasn’t it?

            _No_ , said a little voice in the back of her mind. _You could’ve been grateful without kissing him._

            She picked up her fork and stabbed a bit of scrambled egg slightly more roughly than necessary before eating the bite, finding herself unimpressed, and deciding she was thoroughly not hungry. Setting her fork down again with a sigh, she resumed picking at her toast and ignoring the eyes she felt watching her from down the table.

            _All right, fine. Fine, yes, I’ve thought about doing something like that before. I guess this time I was just too worn down by everything going on to stop myself or, I don’t know, think rationally. And now what do I do? Act like it didn’t happen?_

Narcissa reached for her water glass, more as a pretense for glancing over the Slytherin table than out of thirst. She didn’t see him, and as much as she would’ve liked to have been relieved by this observation, she wasn’t. If she could see him, she reasoned, she might gain some indication of how he felt about her… moment of weakness. She highly doubted he would bring it up in conversation.

            _He’s your best friend, for Merlin’s sake! Why would you possibly think it was okay to take the chance on driving him away? And like it or not, you’re betrothed! What on earth were you thinking?_

            “Okay, what’s with you?”

            Narcissa blinked, shaking off her self-berating thoughts and turning her head to face Lenore, who sat to her left holding a half-eaten bagel and watching Narcissa with a raised brow.

            “Nothing. Why?”

            “You’ve been staring into the distance with your goblet halfway to your mouth for a little too long not to be suspicious,” said Lenore, shrugging. “Just wondered.”

            “I’m just worried about Potions,” said Narcissa, setting her glass down. “That’s all.”

            “Right, with your O.W.L.s, I can absolutely see a reason for that.” Lenore rolled her eyes. “What’s really going on?”

            “ _Nothing_ , Lenore. I’m fine. Drop it, please.”

            Lenore sighed. “Whatever you say.” She raised her bagel to her mouth and took a bite, and Narcissa caught sight of the silver wolf that dominated the back of the other girl’s right hand.

            “What was it like, when that showed up?” Narcissa asked. She immediately regretted the question; she’d found herself thinking too often lately about soulmates and finding a relationship that meant something as opposed to the one she appeared to be heading toward, and she knew that dwelling on an outcome that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to seek would hurt her far more than it would help. Still, she couldn’t shake a certain level of morbid curiosity.

            Lenore finished her bite of bagel and nodded to her hand. “Walden’s patronus?”

            “Yes.”

            “Well, it was just sort of… _there_ , one morning when I woke up. It hadn’t been when I went to sleep. I didn’t feel any different; it didn’t hurt or anything like that. I wouldn’t have realized it was there if I hadn’t been able to see it.”

            “That’s so strange.” Narcissa shook her head and took a sip of water. “Well, you’re lucky.”

            “Yours will turn up.” Lenore elbowed Narcissa gently. “My parents had been out of school for a few years before they got theirs.”

            “It may not matter, for me.” Narcissa sighed. Lenore opened her mouth—to question this further, Narcissa assumed—but she was cut off by the appearance of a barn owl Narcissa recognized immediately as belonging to her sister. The owl dropped a letter to the table and continued on his path, and for a long moment, Narcissa stared at the envelope addressed to her in a script that was unmistakably Andromeda’s. Lenore must’ve sensed Narcissa’s hesitation, as she elected to keep silent.

            At last, Narcissa could stand it no longer. She reached for the envelope and ripped it open, producing a note written on a small, square piece of parchment.

* * *

_Cissy-_

_I’m so, so sorry that I haven’t written to you sooner. I didn’t want to take the chance on our parents intercepting anything I might send you, like they did when Ted tried to write me._

_I know I should’ve found a better way to leave. I didn’t plan on the truth coming out in front of you_ _—I didn’t want you to have to watch them burn my name off the family tree. I never wanted to put you through that or to leave you alone with them. I can’t imagine life has been easy since I left, and I’m sorry for whatever they’ve done to take out their anger at me on you. I wish I could believe that they wouldn’t do something like that, but considering we were both grounded along with Bella each time she managed to break one of Mum’s vases, I think it’s safe to assume they probably have._

_I want you to know—Ted and I got married. I wished more than anything that you could’ve been there. I didn’t want to put you in a bad position with the family._

_Write me, Cissy. Tell me what’s happening, and let me try to help you. Now that you’re at Hogwarts, it should be safe for us to speak. Even if I can’t be there with you, I’m here if you need someone to talk to. We can make this work, little one._

_Love always,_

_Andi_

* * *

 Narcissa didn’t realize the hand she held the note with was trembling until Lenore reached out to hold it still.

            “Narcissa—”

            “I’m going to be late. I’ll see you at dinner.”

            Clutching the note in one hand, Narcissa slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed the envelope with the other, striding quickly away from the table without looking back. She made her way from the Great Hall and into the corridor outside, ignoring the hellos from people she passed and moving through a mental fog until she couldn’t continue forward. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, squeezing the note tightly within in her palm and feeling the parchment crinkle.

            What was she to do, now? Tell Andromeda what their parents had done to punish Narcissa for her sister’s decisions? What would be the use in inflicting the guilt Narcissa knew Andromeda would feel for that punishment? It would be cruel to do so, to dump that on her now that she had found happiness. Now that she’d gotten _married._

            _I don’t know what I expected,_ Narcissa thought, leaning more heavily against the wall and feeling the cold stone pressing into her shoulder. _That she wouldn’t until I was old enough to go to the ceremony without needing to sneak past our parents?_

_…Would I have?_

She hadn’t dared to ask herself this, before now. Each time she’d come close to questioning how far her desire to support her sister would carry her, she’d forced herself to stop short of an answer.

            “Cissy?”

            She froze. _This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to see me, today._ Forcing in a deep breath, she opened her eyes to find Lucius standing in front of her, books in-hand.

            “Hey,” she said flatly, trying to force a smile that she knew missed the mark. “I—look, about last night, I’m s—”

            “Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “I was going to ask if your day was going any better than yesterday, but it doesn’t look that way.”

            Narcissa shrugged. “It could be worse.”

            She wanted to tell him everything—to let herself break down under the pressure that shouldn’t have built up to near this level on the first day of lessons before she’d had a chance to _attend_ those lessons. _I can handle this,_ she told herself. _He has enough to worry about without me dumping all of my problems on him, too. I can’t do that. Not this soon._

            “What’s wrong?”

            “I’m okay. I don’t want to make you late for—”

            “Narcissa.” Lucius folded his arms over his chest, watching her with the raised-brow look she’d long known to mean that he wasn’t going to give up until he had some form of answer.

            _Fine. I guess I’ll start with the simplest part._

            “Andromeda got married,” she said after a moment. “I knew it was going to happen eventually, I just… I guess I wasn’t ready for it. It means she’s really not coming back.”

            “Oh.” Lucius frowned, glancing to the floor and then back to Narcissa. “That’s… I’m sorry, Cissy. I’m sure she wanted you to be there, but she probably knew you couldn’t.”

            “That’s what I’m telling myself.”

            He reached out and gave her hand a slight squeeze. “She loves you. I’m sure she didn’t tell you to cause you pain.”

            “Right.” Narcissa nodded, struggling to ignore the fact that her heartrate had increased at the touch of Lucius’s hand.

            “I’m not sure I like that I keep seeing you around my fiancée, Malfoy.”

            Narcissa kept her focus securely on Lucius and tried not to give in to the desire to toss something in the direction of Thorfinn’s voice.

            “I’m not sure which part of that statement I care about less, Rowle,” said Lucius, his mouth twisting into a smirk as he spoke, his gaze remaining locked with Narcissa’s. “It could be your feelings, or it could be the fact that you think she’ll actually go through with marrying someone like you.”

            Thorfinn laughed coldly. In her periphery, Narcissa saw his shape come into view, flanked by a pair of others.

            “Someone like me? You’re an awful lot like me, aren’t you?”

            The smirk slid from Lucius’s face as quickly as it had come, and when his hand shifted toward his robes, Narcissa knew she had exactly one chance to intervene before this situation got completely out of control. She reached for her bag, dropping the note inside and grabbing her wand. With a quick flick of her wrist toward Thorfinn, she muttered “ _Locomotor Mortis_ ” and then grabbed Lucius by the arm and gave him a pull in the opposite direction.

            “Ignore him,” she said, trying hard to follow her own advice despite the yelling that followed them down the corridor. “He’s an idiot.”

            She glanced up to find Lucius staring forward as they walked, glaring at the air in front of them as though it had caused him physical harm.

            “You’re nothing like him, by the way,” said Narcissa. “He’s just trying to find something to say to get you angry enough to get yourself in trouble to get back at you for giving him detention.”

            Lucius nodded stiffly. “You should get to your lesson. I don’t want you to be late because of me.”

            Narcissa frowned. “This wasn’t your fault.”

            “I held you up asking questions.” He shook his head and opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something else, shut it, and tried again. “I’ll see you soon.”

            He turned and continued down the corridor, and she stared after him, feeling that it was going to be highly difficult to focus on Potions, this morning.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius finally comes to terms with the idea that he has feelings for Narcissa, though he isn't sure how to deal with them, now that his soulmate's patronus has appeared on his person. He tries to fly off his frustration on the Quidditch pitch, where he's attacked.

Transfiguration was the least of Lucius’s worries. He half-listened to Professor McGonagall’s explanation of how to transform a stack of books into a fully-functioning wizard chess board while scratching lines with his quill in the corner of his parchment. He knew Narcissa had been trying to help him, to keep him from doing something he would’ve immediately regretted by attacking Rowle. It was precisely what he’d done for her on the train, and he appreciated the gesture. On the other hand, if he’d been able to reach his wand before she’d pulled him away, he would’ve done much worse than a Leg-Locker Curse, which was what Rowle had, in Lucius’s estimation, deserved.

            _How dare he compare me to him?_ Lucius knew he was glaring daggers at the wall behind Professor McGonagall, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t expected Rowle to turn the tables on him so quickly, at once trying to bring Lucius down to his level and publicly implying that Lucius would’ve liked to be the one betrothed to Narcissa instead. She hadn’t noticed that part, apparently, or if she had, she’d kept quiet about it. That was good, because if she’d commented, he wouldn’t have known how to begin to respond.

            He wasn’t certain which part bothered him the most. Was it what Thorfinn had said, or was it that Lucius knew parts of it were correct, no matter how much he would’ve liked to deny them? In certain ways, yes, the two boys were similar. They’d both signed themselves over to the Dark Lord for whatever that might require of them, and they’d both done things with the Death Eaters that would’ve gotten them arrested, had anyone else known about them. Both hoped to help create a world in which the balance of power tipped in the right direction: toward the Purebloods.

            But that was where the similarities in their ideologies ended. Lucius knew Thorfinn valued women about as much as an expensive set of robes through which he hoped to garner the admiration and envy of those less fortunate, and on the rare occasions Thorfinn had entered into a relationship, he hadn’t been secretive about his aversion to monogamy. He would never respect Narcissa or treat her as his equal, and the thought of her suffering through a life like that was enough to make Lucius wish he’d been just a bit quicker on the draw when he’d had the chance to strike. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, though, he believed the chance would present itself again soon enough. No one involved appeared to be planning to change his or her opinion anytime in the near future, and things were sure to become heated again.

            _And then there’s the other problem._

            Apart from Augustus, no one knew about the silver shape that had materialized on Lucius’s back the previous night. At first, Lucius hadn’t believed his friend about its presence; it sounded like the type of thing Augustus would joke about, after the amount of discussions the two had held about Walden finding his soulmate and the time they had spent speculating on who theirs might be. Lucius had gone to the mirror to investigate, and surely enough, there it had been: the outline of what looked like a silver lioness at the center of his spine.

            He knew he should’ve been elated. The appearance of his soulmate’s patronus was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, and it meant he was one step closer to finding happiness. Hopefully. The problem was that he had no idea to whom that particular patronus belonged. He’d only ever seen those of the students in his year who had been taught to produce them in the same Defense Against the Dark Arts class he’d been forced into as part of the school’s core curriculum, despite how very certain he was that he wouldn’t need to know how to defend himself from dark magic in the foreseeable future. Only roughly half of the class had managed to produce a corporeal patronus, and of those, none had been in the shape of a lioness.

            For a moment, Lucius wondered what became of those people who couldn’t form a solid figure with the spell. He assumed they simply had to keep trying, keep improving their magic until they succeeded. The alternative of never knowing which animal tied them to their soulmate was something Lucius couldn’t bring himself to wish on anyone, except perhaps Thorfinn.

            Lucius couldn’t deny that the appearance of this particular animal made perfect sense. He’d seen other pairs with patronuses that wouldn’t have seemed to fit together, had they not appeared in the same location on their bearers. Walden’s was a wolf and Lenore’s a fox; had the images not appeared in exactly the same spot on each of their right hands, it might have been open for debate if the two were really compatible. Lucius knew, however, that whoever bore his mark must be similar to him in personality as well as his romantic match. After all, his own patronus took the form of a lion.

_It has to be someone I know, right? I heard it shows up when you connect with someone. But I haven’t exactly met anyone new recently, apart from the first-years._

            This thought kept a frown on his lips as the class ended and he filtered out into the corridor along with the rest of the students. He supposed he’d always hoped that when his mark arrived, he would already be in a relationship and the choice would be obvious. As it was, the closest thing he had to a girlfriend was a few close female friends, the closest of whom was Narcissa.

_I wonder if… no. It would’ve shown up long before now if it was her, wouldn’t it?_

            Lucius sighed. He told himself it was ridiculous to be disappointed by that realization, but though he tried to deny it, he was.

            Throughout the remainder of the day and in those that followed, he found his mind returning to the night in the Common Room frequently. He’d always enjoyed being alone with Narcissa, but he hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary to happen, after the other Prefects had gone to bed. He hadn’t expected her to kiss him, and even though the kiss had only been on his cheek, he hadn’t been prepared for how much he would enjoy it or how he would find himself wishing he’d seen it coming so that he could’ve turned his head just slightly and met her lips with his own. He didn’t know if he would get another chance. She’d seemed completely embarrassed and had even started to apologize, and if his match turned out to be someone else…

            He had no idea what the odds were of it coming to pass, but the longer he thought about it, the more he wished he would find out the lioness belonged to her.

_I don’t want to just ask her,_ he thought as he made his way onto the Quidditch pitch, where he planned to fly off as much of his frustration as possible. If he used that frustration to sharpen his focus and if channeling it helped him to better his Quidditch game, at least it would be worth something. _If it’s someone else, I’ll have let her know how I feel without good reason._

            He kicked off the ground and then froze for a moment as he realized what he had just admitted to himself. He wondered how long he’d been denying having feelings for Narcissa and whether he’d done as thorough of a job convincing everyone else he didn’t as he’d done convincing himself. Now that he’d acknowledged it, a bit of the tightness in his chest eased. In the last few days, he’d seen her a few times in passing, but they hadn’t had the chance to be alone since he’d left her in the corridor after the scuffle with Thorfinn. Lucius hoped Narcissa wasn’t angry with him for the way he’d hurried off. He hoped she knew his irritation had been directed completely at Rowle and not at all toward her for intervening. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to ask about the patronus, he knew he needed to speak with her privately and clear things up. He would look for her in the Common Room later.

            Lucius did his best to focus on flying for the next hour, making laps around the Quidditch pitch and occasionally releasing a Snitch he’d brought with him to practice locating it. He’d chosen a time none of the school teams were scheduled to meet and told Augustus where he would be and to pass it on to anyone else who might inquire. Lucius hoped his friends would let him have a small amount of time to himself, but he fully expected them to show up when they were bored of waiting for him to return.

            Just as he’d thought, as the sun began to descend over the trees at the edge of the grounds, a group of students settled into the stands. Lucius avoided flying close enough to them to determine who they were until the Snitch decided it was time, its tiny body changing direction and flitting toward the other students so quickly that Lucius had to turn at a right angle and found himself relieved that he had managed not to fall. He charged forward across the pitch, the faces of those watching him coming more clearly into view as he drew nearer. Augustus, Walden, Lenore, Gabriel, and… Narcissa.

_Well, at least I’ll have an opportunity, now. It’d be better without the rest of them._

            Lucius caught the Snitch a few yards from where his friends sat, and he slipped it into the pocket of his robes and flew forward.

            “I thought I told you lot not to come looking for me,” he said with a grin.

            “I told them the same thing,” said Augustus, shrugging. “Told them you needed your alone time to brood over your sorry lot in life.”

            “Actually,” said Narcissa, “his exact words were ‘Let’s go bother Malfoy. It’s been a few hours since I’ve insulted him.’”

            “Shot through the heart.” Augustus laid a hand over his chest and shook his head, watching Narcissa with feigned sadness. “And I thought I could trust you.”

            “You can, just not when you’re trying to pin your bad ideas on us.” She laughed. Lucius found himself smiling at the sight, and then the expression faded as quickly as it had come when he realized he wished he’d been the one to cause her laughter instead of Augustus.

            “At least she’s honest,” said Lucius. “Don’t forget, Rookwood, I know where you sleep. Bother me enough and it’ll be all too easy to start hiding your things.”

            “Ah, but that goes both ways.”

            “Hurry up and land,” said Walden. “We want to go to supper.”

            “Why did you wait for me?” Lucius shook his head. “Really, you lot are hopeless. I said I’d meet you afterward.”

            “We haven’t had a chance to do much as a group since we got back, with everyone taking different things,” said Lenore, “so we figured we’d try. Quit complaining and come on.”

            Lucius sighed, though he had to smile slightly as he turned and began his descent. At least they cared, however awful some of them were at showing it.

_How am I going to bring anything up, with everyone else around?_ He didn’t particularly want to discuss the patronus situation in front of Walden and Lenore. He’d teased them too many times about their public displays of affection to expect them not to try to get back at him, and he certainly wouldn’t want to give anyone the indication that he’d considered Narcissa as a possible match. If he was wrong, he would disrupt the group dynamic for nothing, and—

            His thoughts were disrupted as his body seized at the same moment he caught sight of a jet of red light in his periphery. All at once, he slid to the side, no longer in control of himself or the path of his broom. He knew the signs well enough to understand what was happening, though he could do nothing to stop it. Lucius barely had time to register that he had been hit by a Stunning Spell before he slipped from his broom, hearing the panicked cries of his friends and thinking he’d caught sight of a small group disappearing from the other end of the stands before the world around him blurred out of focus.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa rushes to help Lucius and discovers the mark on his back- in the same spot as the one that has appeared on her own.

Narcissa hurtled down the steps as quickly as her legs would carry her, paying no mind to where the rest of her friends were. She made her way onto the Quidditch pitch and threw herself down onto the grass beside Lucius, who had landed hard on his back with his right leg twisted awkwardly beneath him. She quickly produced her wand and cast “ _Rennervate,_ ” hoping that the Stunning Spell was the only thing keeping him unconscious.

            He stirred, letting out a soft groan as his face contorted in pain. Narcissa sighed, indescribably relieved that he had awoken so quickly. She reached out to rest a hand on Lucius’s shoulder as he started to sit up.

            “Don’t you dare. Hold still until we see how badly you’re hurt.”

            He blinked rapidly, his gaze seeming to shift into focus, and she believed he was processing her presence for the first time.

            “I’m all right,” he said, adding “really” when she frowned at him.

            “Have you any idea how far you fell?” she demanded. “You’re not all right. Quit being stubborn.”

            By this time, the others had converged on the spot where Lucius had fallen. Lenore and Gabriel paused beside Narcissa while Augustus and Walden continued running.

            “We’ve got it, mate,” called Walden to Lucius as they passed.

            “They won’t get far,” said Augustus, pulling out his wand.

            Narcissa shook her head as she watched them dash toward the other end of the pitch. She’d caught a glimpse of the group standing in the shadows opposite where she and the others had been sitting, and she was relatively certain she would’ve known who was responsible for this even without having seen him, but doing so had definitely confirmed her suspicions.

            Even if Augustus and Walden didn’t catch up to him now, Narcissa would make sure Thorfinn paid for attacking Lucius.

            “We should get him to the castle,” said Gabriel, bending down to lift one of Lucius’s arms onto his shoulder.

            “You lot are worrying for nothing.” Lucius shook his head as he started to stand with Gabriel’s help. As soon as he put his weight on his right leg, however, he winced.

            “Are we?” Narcissa raised a brow. “Hold still for a second and let me see what happened.” She crouched to better examine Lucius’s leg, touching his knee with tentative fingers that drew a sharp gasp from him on contact. “Sorry,” she said quickly.

            “I’m going to kill him,” Lucius muttered.

            “Those two may beat you to it,” said Lenore, nodding toward where Walden and Augustus had disappeared.

            Narcissa shifted her examination to Lucius’s back, standing once again and carefully shifting his now-torn robes a bit to allow her a closer look.

            “This would be easier without the robes,” she told him. “I can’t see very well.”

            Lucius sighed, and as his shoulders lowered, he tensed, evidently experiencing renewed pain. “Fine.” He shrugged out of his robes and passed them to Lenore, and Narcissa caught sight of how badly-ripped the white shirt was that Lucius had been wearing underneath. She lifted it gently, and he shivered as her fingertips skimmed up his back in the process.

            She froze. Amid the scrapes and bruises sustained in his fall was the silver outline of a lioness at the center of his back.

            _So it’s true._

            Narcissa’s throat went suddenly very dry, and she tried unsuccessfully to swallow. The morning after the momentary lapse in judgment that had led her to kiss Lucius’s cheek in the Common Room, as she’d been dressing for class, she’d noticed a change in the mirror—the likeness of a lion had materialized on her back. She’d panicked, naturally. What she didn’t need at the moment was another complication, which is all she’d been able to see this as, at the time. After all, she hadn’t known to whom that particular patronus belonged, but it was very easy to imagine that it was definitely not Thorfinn’s, which was sure to ignite a firestorm of backlash from her family. After staring at the image in the mirror long enough to determine that it wasn’t, in fact, a figment of her imagination, she’d hurried for her clothes with the intention of saying nothing to anyone about her mark until she’d made some sort of decision or at least knew where to begin.

            She remembered Andromeda telling her that the marks appeared when one had made a deep enough connection with one’s soulmate. Narcissa had gone through a mental list of everyone she might’ve forged any form of connection with recently, and discounting the first-years she’d helped find their dormitories and classes within the last several days, she’d known there was only really one answer.

            It had to be Lucius.

            Still, he hadn’t said anything to her about the kiss, and she didn’t know whether to take that as a sign of encouragement or of censure. He’d always been very vocal about his opinions before, and the silence on the subject bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Part of her was certain that she was worrying for no reason, but she didn’t want to be the one to broach the subject. This meant that asking him if he’d happened to notice any strange changes involving her patronus appearing on his body was highly out of the question.

            Now, though, she didn’t need to ask. The silver mark among the injuries he’d sustained in his fall was unmistakably the same one she knew would appear if she were to cast a patronus at that moment, and it was in the same location in which her own mark had appeared. She registered that the animals were even of the same species—this indicated something similar about their bearers, she believed, but she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on this. Not yet. Now was not the time to speak to Lucius about it, and getting him some form of medical attention was the pressing matter at hand.

            “How bad does it look?” asked Lucius.

            “You might as well call off the Quidditch season,” said Lenore. Narcissa jumped at how close the other girl’s voice was and lowered Lucius’s shirt enough to hide the mark—she hadn’t noticed Lenore joining her to examine Lucius’s injuries, and when she realized she’d probably been staring for a little too long, Narcissa’s cheeks began to burn. “You’re done for.”

            “You’ve got some scraping and bruising,” said Narcissa, shaking her head at Lenore. “I don’t know if anything’s broken and I’m not sure if I should touch—I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “I don’t mind.”

            Sighing lightly, Narcissa lifted the shirt again and resumed her inspection of Lucius’s wounds. He let out a sharp breath when she pressed softly on a particular spot near his shoulder blade, and she pulled her hands back.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be. Seems like something may be broken, though.” He laughed humorlessly. “Let’s go to the castle, then.”

            “Hang on—did you see what I saw?” asked Lenore, looking to Narcissa with wide eyes.

            “It’s not the time,” Narcissa said quietly.

            “I’m not imagining it, though?”

            Narcissa opened her mouth to tell her friend to keep her voice down, her own embarrassment for finding out this way and confusion about how to handle it growing the longer the conversation went on. She was cut off, however, by the reappearance of Augustus and Walden, the latter of whom had caught part of the discussion.

            “Imagining what?” Walden called from a few yards ahead. “Managed to hit Yaxley with a nice _Diffindo_ across the back, by the way, but Rowle got out of the way too quickly. We’ll get him, don’t you worry, mate.”

            “I’ve got it covered,” Lucius muttered. “Thanks,” he added, this time loudly enough for Walden to hear.

            “Were you planning on telling us about the patronus?” Lenore asked, moving a few paces to stand in front of Lucius, her brow raised in accusation.

            _No common sense,_ thought Narcissa, feeling her blush deepen. _How does she not realize that this is not the time? He has more pressing things to worry about than that, right now._ She tried hard not to acknowledge that her irritation was, more likely than not, due at least in part to her own role in the situation and her uncertainty as to how Lucius would react if he knew she bore a matching mark.

            “The _what?_ ” demanded Walden, breaking into a jog and circling around the small group to stand beside Narcissa and behind Lucius, lifting his shirt quite a bit more roughly than Narcissa had.

            “Would you be careful?” she asked in exasperation. “He’s injured!”

            Walden waved his free hand dismissively. “He’ll be fine. I won’t, though—you kept this from us? I’m hurt.”

            “Kept it from _you_ ,” said Augustus, smirking.

            “What, _you_ knew?” Walden demanded.

            “First of all, Walden, your complete lack of concern for my well-being might be a reason I didn’t rush to tell you, for future reference” said Lucius. “Anyway, Augustus only knows because he happened to see it and point it out to me. I was going to tell the rest of you eventually.”

            _Hm, eventually,_ thought Narcissa. She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the grass, torn between mild irritation that he hadn’t said anything sooner and irritation at herself for feeling that way. _Stop that_ , she ordered herself. _You didn’t tell him about yours, either. He didn’t have any reason to think you needed to know right away. You do now and what do you plan to do with that information? Exactly._

            “So whose is it?” asked Gabriel.

            Lucius sighed. “I don’t know. Can we just go to the castle?”

            “It looks like a cat,” said Walden, squinting at the mark more closely than Narcissa had ever seen him focus on an assignment.

            “You know what that means?” asked Augustus.

            “I do.” Walden clapped a hand on Lucius’s shoulder, leading the latter to wince and Narcissa to flinch. “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you, Lucius,” said Walden, “but it looks like you’re doomed to a life of romantic bliss with none other than our lovely Professor McGonagall.”

            Narcissa rolled her eyes.

            “You’re an idiot,” said Lucius. “Anyway, it’s not a cat. It’s a lioness. Get your eyes checked, Macnair.”

            “Quit antagonizing him and help,” said Narcissa. “Grab the broom, please. You, come on.” She slipped under the arm Gabriel wasn’t supporting, and as they started forward, she found herself smiling slightly at Lucius’s defense of her patronus, even if he hadn’t known it was hers. Or perhaps the smile was due to the feeling of his arm around her shoulders.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius visits the Hospital Wing. After his release, he's patrolling the corridors when he passes the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and catches sight of a familiar patronus- the one he knows belongs to his soulmate.

Lucius did his best to keep silent for the duration of the walk back to the castle, attempting to tune out the chattering of his friends and refrain from pointing out how stupid most of their remarks were regarding the appearance of his mark. He hadn’t planned on any of them finding out so soon. He’d wanted to bring it up only when he was ready—when he’d actually determined what it meant, for starters, and on his own terms. He hadn’t counted on being knocked from his broom and to the grass of the Quidditch pitch in front of all of them.

            In front of _her._

            He’d been struggling enough with trying to understand how he felt about Narcissa without embarrassing himself by letting her see him fall and worry over his injuries. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his shiver, when she’d lifted his shirt to inspect the damage. He’d spent years denying the possibility of viewing her as more than a friend, and now that he’d allowed the thought to cross his mind, he was finding it hard to shake.

            Unfortunately, now she knew that the patronus of his soulmate had materialized, and he doubted she would easily forget that he hadn’t told her about something this important personally. He’d planned to, after all. He’d wanted to ask her what her patronus was, on the chance that somehow, he just hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention for all this time. If so, he would’ve been highly frustrated with himself, but at least he would’ve known the truth. Now, though, was mortified enough without asking a question that could lead to millions more and could very likely also lead to disappointment. For the moment, he needed to focus on not stumbling as she supported his right arm and Travers supported his left, helping him up the steps toward the Hospital Wing. His back and leg ached, and each movement sent another jolt of pain through him, particularly when he placed his weight on his right foot.

            The list of violent acts he wanted to commit involving Thorfinn Rowle grew exponentially by the day. Lucius would have retribution for this, he swore to himself. He didn’t want to risk losing his status as Head Boy, which meant he would have to be careful, but he didn’t intend to let this attack go unpunished, particularly if his injuries kept him off the Quidditch field. As captain, he couldn’t afford to let the team down, and as a matter of personal pride, he couldn’t let Rowle even begin to think he’d won.

            The moment the group entered the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey began to fuss over Lucius, who attempted to downplay the severity of the pain he felt with each step.

            “Here, bring him over here, please. Sit down, Mr. Malfoy, and be still.”

            “Just a few scratches, Madam Pomfrey,” said Lucius as Narcissa and Gabriel led him to the bed the matron had indicated. “I’m sure it’s nothing too horrible.” Lucius let out a hiss as Gabriel dropped his arm too quickly and a sharp sting shot through his shoulder and back, and Narcissa sighed impatiently.

            “He fell off his broom from rather high up,” she said, addressing Madam Pomfrey, “and I think he’s probably broken something. He’s just too stubborn to ask for help,” she added under her breath.

            Lucius sighed. “Thank you,” he told Narcissa quietly. “I do appreciate it.” When he’d awoken after being Stunned to find that she was the one who’d revived him and had been the first to run onto the pitch to help, he’d been both indescribably grateful and incredibly embarrassed that she’d seen him in a moment of such weakness. He tried to tell himself that the fall hadn’t been his fault—after all, he hadn’t really fallen, he’d been blasted out of the air, which had been completely out of his control. Still, he hadn’t wanted to let on to how severely he’d been hurt. He did have a reputation to maintain, and now that Augustus and Walden had gone after Thorfinn before Lucius had been given the chance, he wondered if that reputation had already been damaged.

            Narcissa nodded, sliding out from under Lucius’s arm carefully as he sat down at the edge of the bed. “Just tell her the truth so you can get better, okay?”

            “I give you my word.”

            “Right, let’s have a look at you.” Madam Pomfrey bustled toward the bed, her face set in concentration as she leaned over Lucius and began examining him. The others backed out of her way, Narcissa and Gabriel joining Walden, Lenore, and Augustus near the doorway. Lucius held as still as possible as Madam Pomfrey poked and prodded him and, after several minutes of investigation, produced a clear bottle filled with a thick, purple potion, which she rested on the table beside the bed.

            “I believe,” she said at last, “you’ll be staying here overnight, Mr. Malfoy. Your ankle’s broken, and you’ve cracked a few ribs. It’s nothing I can’t fix, but I don’t want you taking the chance on hurting yourself worse, or someone else doing it for you.” She shot a look at Gabriel, who lowered his gaze to the floor.

            Lucius nodded grudgingly. He knew better than to argue the point, but the idea of allowing Rowle the satisfaction of causing him to stay in the infirmary overnight made his stomach turn.

            “You lot can bring him something for supper, if you like,” said Madam Pomfrey, “but then he’s going to need to rest.”

            The Slytherins nodded in succession and filtered out the doors, and Lucius leaned back against the pillows as Madam Pomfrey slipped another beneath his injured foot.

            “You’ll probably need whatever they bring you to wash this down, anyway.” She reached for the bottle of potion and poured some of it into a glass. She passed it to Lucius, who eyed it warily. “Go on,” the matron insisted.

            Lucius inhaled deeply, nearly gagging at the scent of the potion, and forced himself to drink it. The taste was, as he’d anticipated, even worse than the smell, reminding him of overcooked vegetables mixed with a generous amount of dirt. Madam Pomfrey began muttering incantations as he drank, and slowly, Lucius’s pain began to ebb away.

            Shortly, Narcissa and Lenore returned with a plate of food, a glass of pumpkin juice, and a concerned-looking Professor Slughorn, who clapped a hand on Lucius’s shoulder much too hard to be reassuring, given the latter’s situation.

            “Miss Black and Miss Brown were just telling me you’d had a fall, my boy, and I wanted to see for myself. I’ve watched your Quidditch matches, and you’re excellent at flying—what happened?”

            “I’m not entirely certain, Professor,” said Lucius, reaching up to rub his shoulder as soon as Slughorn had moved his hand out of the way. He knew Slughorn meant well, but the professor also had an entirely unique way of being oblivious to what was appropriate, at times. “I just slipped.”

            Lucius caught the eye of Narcissa, who frowned. He assumed she wanted him to tell Slughorn the truth, but he would’ve rather ingested another glass of Pomfrey’s potion before admitting what had happened to a professor—particularly Slughorn, who had chosen Lucius early-on in his schooling as one of his prized students.

            “Is that so?” asked Slughorn, raising his brows as he glanced from Lucius to Narcissa and Lenore and back. “It seems so unlike you.”

            Lucius shrugged. “Just had an off day, I suppose.”

            “Leave the boy alone, Horace,” said Madam Pomfrey, returning the potion bottle and glass to a cabinet along the wall before gesturing toward the door. “He needs rest. He’ll be out in the morning, girls.”

            “All right, all right, Poppy, I understand.” Slughorn nodded and started for the exit, laying a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders and guiding them along with him. Narcissa cast a helpless glance back at Lucius, who tried to smile at her. “Get well, Lucius. Slytherin needs you, this season.”

            Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes until the doors had closed behind the three of them, and then he glanced to the food and pumpkin juice that had been left on the table, finding them suddenly much less appetizing. _But no pressure, Professor,_ he thought.

            His night in the infirmary was as boring as he’d expected. Aside from Madam Pomfrey and a first-year who’d been at the receiving end of a Jelly-Legs Jinx gone wrong, he had no company, and he resorted to reading a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that had been left on the next table over a few days previously until he eventually gave in to the need to sleep. He was discharged the following morning with only minor aches remaining and under orders to avoid flying for at least a week. Whether or not he planned to obey those orders was uncertain, but he assured Madam Pomfrey that he would.

            Lucius returned to his dormitory to change into something that wasn’t horribly ripped and then made his way to Transfiguration, electing to miss breakfast and delay the inevitable run-in with the rest of the Slytherin table. Afterward, he was scheduled for rounds throughout the corridors, and he believed the time alone would give him both time to clear his head and an opportunity to stretch the soreness from his muscles.

            He was passing a classroom on the third floor when a voice caught his attention.

            “…and if you would, Miss Black, please demonstrate for us a proper Patronus Charm.”

            Lucius paused outside the doorway, recognizing the voice as belonging to the new professor Dumbledore had introduced at the start-of-term feast and knowing the classroom he stood a few paces away from belonged to none other than the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but honestly, it was his duty to be patrolling the corridors and he’d happened upon the classroom by accident. If doing so allowed him to find the answer to a question that had been pulling at his thoughts for days, then so be it. No one, he reasoned, could begrudge him that much.

            He slid to the side, attempting to remain out of view of the students within the room as he scanned it for familiar faces. The room was filled with sixth-year Slytherins, as he’d anticipated, as well as sixth-year Gryffindors. Narcissa sat at a desk near the front of the room, and Lucius could see the tension in her posture even from the doorway. He knew she was gifted, but he also knew she hated being put on the spot, particularly in front of large crowds. He watched as she raised her wand and quietly uttered the spell, and as the silver shape emerged from her wand and entered the air above her desk, Lucius reached out for the doorframe to steady himself.

            A wispy, silver lioness had formed between Narcissa and the professor, and as Lucius watched, the patronus began to prowl along the desk, glancing at the other students, a few of whom shrank back. Narcissa lowered her wand, and the animal vanished. Lucius stared at the spot it had occupied for perhaps a moment too long, as the professor glanced in his direction and opened his mouth to speak. Lucius ducked out of the doorway quickly, determined not to have the attention of the class drawn to him, and started at a brisk walk down the corridor.

            _It’s her. She’s the one._

            At last, he had his answer. Things were beginning to make sense, and he found himself smiling as he turned the corner and started toward the dormitories to collect his things before his next lesson. His smile evaporated as quickly as it had formed, however, at his next thought.

            _And now I just need to tell her that._


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa writes to Andromeda and is interrupted by Lucius, who wants to discuss patronuses.

Narcissa made her way toward the Great Hall without speaking to anyone, too lost in her own thoughts to make the effort. In fact, she’d ducked out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as quickly as she could reach the door from her seat near the front in an effort to avoid anyone questioning her about her patronus. She’d been practicing the spell on her own for over a year, now. As soon as Andromeda had begun filling her head with stories about what it was like to find one’s other half, Narcissa had become determined to be prepared, and she’d made certain to become proficient enough at the charm to give her patronus a corporeal form. She’d wanted to recognize it, when it appeared on her soulmate, and now it had. Showing an entire room full of students her patronus so shortly after a group of her friends had discovered which one Lucius now bore hadn’t been part of the plan.

            Neither had him witnessing it. She believed she’d caught sight of him standing outside the classroom door, but if so, he’d gone too quickly for her to be sure.

_Maybe I’m just getting paranoid,_ she thought, _which is ridiculous. There’s no reason for me to be anxious around Lucius._ She knew rationally that this was true. He was still the same person he’d been before the term started and she’d become completely confused about where they stood with one another, but this confusion had made her uncertain of how to act around him. Her tendency to overthink things had become problematic.

            She sat down at the Slytherin table and shrugged her schoolbag off of her shoulder to set it next to her and pull the book she’d been reading from among textbooks, quills, and rolls of parchment. She opened the novel on the table and tried to focus on reading between bites of food with little success. With a sigh, she returned the book to her bag and removed the letter she’d received at breakfast. 

* * *

 

_Cissy-_

_Are you all right? It’s not like you not to write back, and I’m worried. Please don’t be angry with me for not reaching you sooner. I really wish we were able to see one another, and I’d like to find a way to arrange that, if you’ll help me. Please owl me as quickly as you can._

_Love,_

_Andi_

* * *

Narcissa knew she shouldn’t be angry with her sister for waiting to inform her of her marriage until after it had taken place. She wasn’t angry, exactly—it was more that she didn’t know what to say. Andromeda had dealt gracefully with losing contact with the rest of their family, and Narcissa felt that she herself was handling things very poorly in comparison. She wished the two of them were back at home, down the hallway from one another, where Narcissa could sneak into Andromeda’s room after their parents had gone to sleep and ask her for advice without worrying like sounding like a petulant child who needed to learn how to deal with her own problems.

            She rolled her shoulders back and pulled a quill from her bag, beginning to write her reply on a blank piece of parchment.

* * *

_Andi-_

_I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I promise I’m not angry with you—I wish you and Ted the best, and I’m sorry for how everyone else has reacted. I’ve just been trying to sort things out at home and at school. Our parents have decided that I’m to marry Thorfinn Rowle. He’s still as awful as he was when you were in school, so no, I’m not thrilled about it. Neither is Lucius. As it turns out—and I’m still trying to process this, so please rein in your enthusiasm—my soulmate has been right in front of my nose the whole time. I’m not completely sure whether Lucius has figured it out, yet, and I don’t know how to ask, so I’m starting to feel like I’m going mad. I’m afraid Mum and Dad won’t care and will still want me to marry Thorfinn. Isn’t that ludicrous? But you know better than anyone how unreasonable they are._

_I’d love to see you, too. If you have any ideas on how to make it happen, let me know._

_Love,_

_Cissy_

* * *

“What’re you working on?”

            Narcissa looked up quickly enough to give herself vertigo, dropping her quill and laying her arm over the parchment as casually as she could manage, though she felt she’d severely missed that mark. Lucius had taken the seat opposite her, and as his gaze drifted from her face to the parchment and back again, she pulled the letter slowly back toward her. She wondered how long he’d been sitting there.

            “I’m writing to Andromeda,” she said, her cheeks burning. “Didn’t have time at breakfast.”

            Lucius nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich before speaking again. “How is she?” he asked.

            Narcissa shrugged. “Fine, I suppose. Worried because I didn’t owl her sooner.”

            “I’m sure you’ve, ah, had a lot on your mind.” He took a drink from the goblet that had been resting beside his plate, glancing at the wall behind her, and she laughed.

            “That’s putting it lightly.” She slipped the letter into her bag and sat fidgeting with her hands for a moment before returning her focus to him. “You though—how’re you feeling?” Her voice became stronger as she changed the subject, finding herself better able to keep her nerves in check when she was focused on his well-being instead of whether he’d seen the letter. “We hated to leave you in the Hospital Wing alone. I went by this morning to see how you were, but you’d already left.”

            “I’m fine, Cissy.” Lucius smiled at her, though she thought the expression looked the slightest bit uneasy. “Sorry, I—I would’ve stayed, if I’d known you were coming by. I’m sure it was out of your way.”

            She shrugged again, taking a drink of pumpkin juice to give her a moment longer to think her words over before answering. Momentarily, she debated telling him that no, she’d been on her Prefect rounds anyway and had been in the area, but she then realized that as Head Boy he likely knew the schedule better than she did and would see through that lie rather quickly.

            “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said. “That was dreadful, what they did.”

            “‘They,’” he repeated, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “Your mother knows how to pick them, doesn’t she?”

            Narcissa opened her mouth to speak and shut it again, feeling her blush deepening as the conversation progressed. On her second attempt, she found her voice.

            “He’ll get what’s coming to him,” she said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

            Lucius frowned. “No, you don’t need to get involved. He attacked me, and I’ll deal with it. You know I don’t blame you for anything, right? You didn’t pick the idiot. He’s just getting back at me for giving him detention.”

            “Yes, because of what he did to me.” Narcissa sighed. “You tried to get him to leave me alone, and he broke a few of your bones. I’m not having it.”

            For a moment, they only looked at one another, Narcissa fighting down the urge to rush around to the other side of the table and hug Lucius in thanks and in apology and wondering what he was thinking. He then reached for her hand, and she let him take it.

            “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” he said. He paused for a deep breath, and she struggled to ignore how loudly her heart was beating. She was almost certain he could hear it.

            “What is it?” she asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

            “Well, I know you—ah—saw the patronus, yesterday on the Quidditch pitch.”

_Oh my. This is it. What do I do? What do I say?_

            “Yes, I saw.” _Excellent. Way to go, Narcissa._ She was distracted from chastising herself for the lack of a better response by the feeling of his thumb tracing her hand, and then he spoke again.

            “I’d been meaning to talk to you about it before I told the rest of them.”

            “Why’s that?” she pressed.

            “Well, I value your opinion, first of all, and I thought if anyone would know what to do, then…” Lucius sighed shortly. “Earlier, I realized that I knew who—”

            His sentence was interrupted as a jet of blue light hit the platter of sandwiches a few seats down, sending food flying across the table. Narcissa jumped, and Lucius’s hand tensed in hers, his expression turning fierce and agitated as he searched out the source of the disruption. A pair of first-years—a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, by the look of their robes—had begun shouting and shoving one another between the tables, and the Slytherin had cast the first hex. The Ravenclaw raised her wand to return the gesture, and Lucius released Narcissa’s hand, shooting her a quick, apologetic look.

            “I’ve got to take care of—”

            “Go ahead, I need to get to class. We’ll talk later.”

            He nodded and strode toward the pair of younger students, his eyes narrowed and the briskness of his steps indicative of his frustration. Narcissa lifted her bag onto her shoulder and stood, making her way toward the doors. As she neared the end of the Slytherin table, her eyes fell on Thorfinn, who was snickering with Yaxley and watching Lucius, who had grabbed both of the younger students by their collars and begun to reprimand them.

            “Looks a little stiff today, doesn’t he?” Thorfinn called to Narcissa as she approached. “Wonder what that’s all about.”

            She gritted her teeth, slipping her hand into her bag and producing a note she’d written that morning before she’d even left her dormitory. She paused beside where Thorfinn sat, slamming the note onto the table in front of him with enough vigor to cause a bit of his pumpkin juice to slosh over the edge of its glass.

            “Assaulting a housemate—that’s another week’s detention on top of what you managed to get yourself before you’d even set foot in the castle, this term. Are you going for a record?”

            Glaring, Thorfinn laid his hand on top of Narcissa’s where it rested on the note, and she immediately regretted not removing hers sooner.

            “You can’t prove I did anything,” he snarled. “The professors won’t hold me to this.”

            “Won’t they?” Narcissa raised a brow. “Professor Slughorn was very upset about what happened to Lucius. I’m sure he’d love to hear who was responsible. He quite likes me, you know. I’m sure he’d believe me fairly easily.” She pulled her hand free and gripped the strap of her bag, stepping out of Thorfinn’s reach. “I’d quit while you’re behind.”

            Without waiting for his reply, she strode for the doors and out of the Great Hall, feeling proud of herself for standing her ground. She started toward the Owlery, hoping she had enough time to send her letter to Andromeda before her next lesson began and cursing those first-years for not waiting just a few moments longer to make a scene.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After breaking up a fight between two younger students, Lucius runs into Thorfinn.

_I was this close_ _—this close, dammit._ _Another ten seconds and I would’ve gotten it over with._

Sighing irritably, Lucius cast a sidelong glance at the first-year Slytherin girl whose tussle with a Ravenclaw had interrupted his attempt to finally confess to Narcissa what he’d determined about her patronus. He’d already taken the other student to Ravenclaw’s Head of House—his own patience was at an all-time low, at the moment, and he didn’t trust himself not to levy a harsher punishment than the two deserved, if left to decide on his own—and had nearly reached Professor Slughorn’s office with the one remaining.

            “What exactly were you thinking, dueling in the Great Hall?” he asked.

            The girl shrugged, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the floor. “She deserved it.”

            “And why is that?”

            “She was insulting Slytherin. You know, talking about how we’re all a bunch of brutes and probably cheat our way to winning the House Cup. And the Quidditch Cup, mind you. You’re on the team, aren’t you? I thought you’d understand.”

            Lucius inhaled deeply and allowed himself to really look at the girl, at last. She was a brunette and only reached his chest in height, but the set of her mouth was firm and despite her unwillingness to meet his gaze, there was an unapologetic determination in her eyes with which he was highly familiar.

            “What’s your name?” he asked after a moment.

            “Odette. Odette Max.”

            “Well, Odette, I’m Lucius Malfoy, and—”

            “I know. Our whole House looks up to you. And you know my brother.”

            This gave him pause. Max, she’d said. _Ah. Aldrick._ If he was correct in his assumption, Odette’s brother was in the same year as Narcissa and had trained alongside Lucius and several others over the holidays. He wondered how much Aldrick had told his sister about what that particular training was for, but he knew better than to ask, given their present location.

            “I do,” he said. “I quite like your brother.”

            This had complicated things with the Death Eaters, as it always seemed to when one had friends within the ranks. It was difficult to be told to practice the Cruciatus Curse on someone and then invite him over for a game of Quidditch or a party with the rest of one’s housemates, but Lucius had become accustomed to treading that line. The majority of the people he considered friends were in training for the Death Eaters or had already completed it, and each had accepted the need to mentally separate work and leisure and had become adept at pretending they weren’t ordered to test curses on one another on their breaks from school.

            “Anyway,” Lucius continued, “what you need to understand is that people will always have a lot of assumptions about Slytherin and about you for being in it. They’ll be unfounded and usually ridiculous, but you’re better than letting them get to you. Part of being a Slytherin is realizing that—realizing that you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone, because you know that you have the potential to be great. You don’t need to go out of your way to explain what makes you great or be ready with a defense of the rest of us. You’ll prove everyone else wrong just by excelling at what you do, and yes, they’ll accuse you of cheating and scheming and every foul thing they can, but it’s because they can’t accept the idea that they simply can’t compete with people like us.”

            Odette looked up at him as he spoke, and her irritation appeared to ebb away with the words. She smiled.

            “Thank you, Lucius,” she said. “I’ll remember that.”  

            He nodded, pausing as they reached the door to Slughorn’s office. “And don’t hesitate to let me or one of your Prefects know, if you need help dealing with idiots. We’ve quite a bit of practice, and it’s better than getting into fights.” He knocked on the door.

            “Come in,” called Slughorn’s voice from the other side. Lucius opened the door and motioned Odette inside before following her, and Slughorn looked up from a stack of paperwork where he sat at his desk, grinning when his gaze landed on Lucius. “All right, Malfoy? Feeling better? It seemed like a particularly nasty fall.”

            “Yes, Sir. Ready to forget about it, honestly.” Lucius knew that was roughly as likely as finding himself with the sudden inclination to venture out into the Muggle world, but still, he wanted to think about the incident that had landed him in the infirmary as little as possible. He had enough on his mind without dwelling on that, too.

            “Of course, of course.” Slughorn nodded, glancing for the first time in the direction of the younger student. “Ah, Miss Max. What’s going on?”

            “She had a disagreement with another student that turned into a duel,” said Lucius, “and at the risk of ruining everyone’s meal, I figured I’d bring her to you.”

            “Right. Thank you, my boy. I’ll get her sorted out before my lesson starts.” Slughorn gestured toward the chair on the opposite side of his desk, and Odette started toward it, her momentary mirth replaced once again by apprehension.

            “Remember what I said,” Lucius told her quietly before speaking to Slughorn once again. “Thank you, Professor.”

            “Certainly. Keep yourself healthy, now.”

            “I’ll try.” Lucius ducked out of the office and returned to the corridor, shaking his head as soon as he’d cleared Slughorn’s line of sight. _Not like it was exactly my choice,_ Professor _._

            Lucius halted as a blond blur nearly knocked into him. He held out his hands to catch the clearly-frazzled girl he realized was Narcissa.

            “Merlin, I’m sorry,” she said, holding tighter to the bag she’d nearly dropped as her pale cheeks filled with color.

            “Are you sure you’re not following me?” Lucius laughed quietly, but though he’d been joking, he thought a moment too late that teasing her about that might not have been the best idea. He went on before she could answer. “Are you all right?”

            “I’m just running late. I’d made it halfway to my classroom before I realized I’d forgotten an assignment in my dormitory.” She sighed, and he nodded.

            “I’ll get out of your way.”

            She smiled apologetically and started forward again. “I should be in the Common Room later, if you feel like talking.”

            “Sounds perfect,” he said, watching her go before starting on his path again.

            He couldn’t completely understand how he felt about the idea of finally telling her. He was ready to get the words off his chest, yes, and though he was wary of thinking too much about this for the small possibility of his assumption being wrong, he thought she seemed to feel the same way about him. It was this small possibility of miscalculation, however, that led to his feeling anxious as well as excited.

            _You’re being unreasonable,_ he told himself. _The two of you are meant to be together—look at your patronuses, for Merlin’s sake. Nothing’s going to go wrong._

            “I see you’re getting around decently. Shame.”

            _Other than this prat, that is._

            Lucius glanced toward the wall, against which Rowle reclined, watching him with a smirk. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lucius started forward, pulling out his wand with one hand and laying his forearm over Thorfinn’s throat to press him hard against the stone wall.

            “Now you listen to me,” said Lucius, his voice low and positively lethal as he leaned close to speak in Rowle’s ear just in case someone happened to be close enough to hear him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, and if you continue, you’re going to wish you’d stayed far away from me.”

            Thorfinn reached for the pocket of his robes, but Lucius had anticipated the movement. He flicked his wrist and cast a non-verbal _Diffindo_ , and instantly, a long gash appeared along the back of Thorfinn’s hand, dripping blood as its owner let out a pained cry.

            “Bad choice,” said Lucius. “You keep making those. You forget how much I know about you, Rowle. Don’t make me let slip how you spent your summer.”

            “You were there, too,” Thorfinn snarled, his eyes alive with malice.

            “But if I deny that, who’re they going to believe? You’ve let half of Slytherin see that you have it out for me, which was one of the many mistakes you’ve made recently. The professors like me, so I doubt you’ll find any help there. And stay the hell away from Narcissa.”

            “That’ll be difficult, considering—”

            Lucius pressed his arm tighter against Thorfinn’s windpipe, and the latter let out a choking noise as he struggled against the former’s grip.

            “It really won’t. Her parents chose you because they’re foolish enough to think you’re respectable. I can’t imagine what it would do to your reputation if they knew exactly how much you sleep around and that least one of your girlfriends ended up in St. Mungo’s after you lost your temper.” _I’m not sure if that would actually dissuade Druella, actually._ The thought was so infuriating that Lucius began to grind his teeth, and he thought for what must have been the millionth time that Narcissa deserved better. _It might if I told the other Pureblood families how willing she was to endanger her daughter._ “I’m sure they wouldn’t keep quiet about it,” he went on, his gaze boring into Thorfinn. “Then no one would ever be stupid enough to come near you.”

            Forcing in a breath deep enough to make his lungs ache, Lucius pulled back his arm, and Thorfinn raised his hands to his own throat, gasping and coughing. As he stared at the other boy, heart pounding mercilessly in his ears with the rage pulsing through him, Lucius reminded himself that no matter what Thorfinn truly deserved, he himself could do no more at the present time without risking punishment.

            “You should really bandage that hand.”

            With those words, Lucius stowed his wand and turned away, running a hand through his hair and making his way toward the staircase without looking back. He didn’t need to see the hatred in Rowle’s expression to know it would be there. Lucius knew that he’d won, at least for now, and that was more than enough to bring a smile to his lips as he started up the steps.

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa receives a letter asking her to meet Andromeda... and Ted.

Narcissa knew she should’ve been focusing on her notes. She’d tried diligently for the first half of the period, listening to Professor Sprout prattle on about the properties of the Fanged Geranium and wondering idly how safe it was to bring the plant into a greenhouse full of students. Eventually, though, Narcissa gave in to her own lack of interest in the topic at hand and her own restlessness, and she allowed her mind to wander.

            She thought of how she’d almost been certain her heart had stopped earlier when Lucius had grabbed her hand. She’d expected the contact to last for a few moments, as it had each time one of them had dared to make the gesture before, and then end. But he’d held on until the first-years had interrupted, and the regret in his eyes had indicated that he hadn’t wanted to let go even then.

            _What’s wrong with me?_ Narcissa stared down at the table in front of her, focusing on a spot beside her parchment and nodding now and then to give the appearance of paying attention. She hated how foolish she’d begun to feel. It wasn’t as though being near to one another was a new phenomenon, for her and Lucius. However, as she reminded himself, it was under entirely different circumstances, now. Before, they’d been friends—best friends, if she were to be honest with herself—with no expectations of anything more. Now, though, she’d finally come to terms with the fact that she _wanted_ something more, and if they’d had just a few moments longer together in the Great Hall, she was almost certain that he would’ve told her the same thing. Her embarrassment and fear of being late to her lessons had led her to hurry away, but she had also wanted to keep him from seeing how disappointed she’d been that their moment had gotten interrupted by a pair of squabbling students.

            In theory, the mark on her back should’ve eased her mind. _It means that things were supposed to work out, doesn’t it?_ But she’d seen too many complicated situations involving soulmates to feel at peace, not the least of which involving her sister.

            Narcissa cast a glance down the table at Rosalyn Selwyn, one of her dormitory mates and the victim of another complicated situation that Narcissa certainly did not envy. As Narcissa watched, Rosalyn directed a poorly-concealed glare in the direction of Alecto Carrow, who was speaking behind her hand to Nickolas Crabbe. Despite the majority of the school—or at least those in Slytherin, as Narcissa had little contact with the other Houses and was uncertain of what they knew—being aware that Rosalyn and Nickolas bore one another’s marks, Nickolas still appeared to be unwilling to end his relationship with Alecto. Narcissa fully expected the ordeal to turn vicious, sooner or later, and she wanted no part in it, though she knew Rosalyn was likely to try to garner her support.

            Narcissa let out a grateful sigh when the class ended and hurriedly shoved her belongings into her bag before making her way out of the greenhouse and onto the lawn. She stretched as she moved, glad beyond reason that Herbology had been her final class for the week and that she would now have the chance to relax, however temporarily.

            This feeling of relief lasted only a few moments, however. Before she’d made it to the castle, she caught sight of a blur of red hair and energy moving toward her at much too great a speed for so late in the day, and she braced herself.

            “Please tell me no one’s hurt, this time,” she said as Lenore paused at her side, the redhead’s eyes wide and expectant.

            “Not that I’m aware of, but I haven’t read it, yet.”

            “What’re you talking about?”

            “Someone’s trying like hell to reach you. You know letters are supposed to show up during breakfast, don’t you?”

            Narcissa’s stomach twisted. The only letter she was expecting was from Andromeda, and she certainly didn’t like the idea of the word ‘ _yet_ ’ being applied to Lenore or anyone else reading that particular message.

            “Of course I do,” said Narcissa, folding her arms over her chest. “If you have a letter for me, may I have it, please?”

            Lenore reached into the bag hanging from her shoulder, rummaging around in it for a few moments before producing an envelope addressed to Narcissa and passing it to her with a sigh.

            “I could’ve tried to get something out of this, you know. The stupid bird wouldn’t leave me alone—kept flying around the Common Room trying to get someone’s attention, and I was the only one around, after Walden left. I figure the pecking I got has earned me at least one round of you letting me win at Wizard’s Chess.”

            Narcissa shook her head, fighting a smile. “You’re a hero, Lenore, truly. Thank you.” She moved to begin opening the envelope and then paused midway through, glancing up at Lenore, who was still watching her expectantly. “Are you really that nosy?”

            “You should know that, by now.” Lenore shrugged.

            “I do, but at this exact moment, as much as I do appreciate your valiant effort to fight off what I’m sure was an incredibly threatening owl and bring this to me, I need to read it alone. I will talk to you about it, though, when I can.” Narcissa had no idea what the letter would contain, and at the risk of bringing more trouble down on her sister, she didn’t believe involving someone else was the best course of action.

            Lenore’s face fell. “All right. If you say so.”

            _Please,_ thought Narcissa in mild exasperation, _I don’t need to add feeling guilty for letting you down to the list of my problems, at the moment._ She sighed.

            “Just look the other way for a moment and let me read it, and then we can go back to the castle. Is that all right?”

            Lenore nodded. “At least you’re not trying to get rid of me.” She smirked and turned, looking out over the grounds and at the passing students. Narcissa returned her attention to the letter in her own hands, removing it from the envelope and beginning to read.

* * *

_Cissy-_

_I’m absolutely horrified at what our parents are doing to you. I’m coming to see you straightaway. Meet me in Hogsmeade this evening after you finish with your lessons, and we’ll talk. I’ll be bringing Ted_ _—you said before you wanted to meet my match, and I figure now’s as good a time as any, considering it seems you’ve met yours, as well. I want to hear absolutely everything about what’s going on with Lucius. I’ll be waiting at The Three Broomsticks._

_Love,_

_Andi_

* * *

Narcissa stared open-mouthed at the parchment for what must’ve been too long, as Lenore grew impatient, glancing in her direction.

            “Aren’t you finished, yet?” she prodded.

            The words snapped Narcissa out of her stunned state, and she nodded hastily, reaching into her bag and digging for a quill. She ripped a blank portion free from the bottom of the letter and wrote as quickly as she could manage while still keeping the words somewhat legible.

* * *

 

_Lucius-_

_I’m sorry; I’ll be late meeting you in the Common Room. Something’s come up with Andi, and she’s waiting for me at The Three Broomsticks. I’ll be back as soon as I can._

_Narcissa_

* * *

She folded the scrap of parchment in half and slipped it into the envelope, upon which she scratched out her own name and replaced it with his before sliding Andromeda’s letter into her bag. She passed the envelope back to Lenore, who stared at it uncomprehendingly.

            “Wait, so that was from—?”

            “No, it wasn’t. But would you take this to him, please? I don’t have time to go back to the castle, after all.”

            Lenore let out a frustrated sigh. “Who’re you ditching me for, then?”

            “I promise I’ll explain. I just don’t have time, right now.”

            Narcissa turned and started across the grass, laughing humorlessly under her breath when Lenore called “Good luck, I guess.”

            _You have no idea,_ Narcissa thought, _how much I’m going to need it._

* * *

She had been present in The Three Broomsticks for approximately three seconds when she was nearly knocked from her feet by the force of the hug she received when her sister launched into her from the right. Technically, it was not an official Hogsmeade weekend, though it was a Friday evening, and Narcissa hoped that her Prefect status would keep anyone who happened to see her from asking questions. The pub was occupied by a handful of people she didn’t know, and as she returned Andromeda’s embrace, she allowed herself to forget for the moment about the rest of her worries.

            “I’ve missed you so much,” said Andromeda, holding to Narcissa tightly.

            “I’ve missed you, too. How’ve you been?”

            As they leaned back, Andromeda rested her hands on her sister’s shoulders and eyed her appraisingly, a lock of brown hair falling in her face as she tilted her head to the side.

            “I’m fine—we’ll talk about me later. You look like you either haven’t slept right in months or you’ve just come from a lecture with Binns.”

            Narcissa laughed. “Sprout, actually.”

            “Ah, Herbology. I do not miss it. Come on, let’s sit down. Ted’s just gone to order drinks, so it’ll be just us, for a moment.”

            Narcissa swallowed as her sister took her hand and guided her to a table at the back of the pub where a trio of seats had been reserved by two coats and a purse. Andromeda shifted the purse to the floor and patted the seat where it had been before taking the one beside it, and Narcissa sat, glancing as she did so toward the bar. Much to her dismay, several men were waiting in line for drinks, and she doubted she would recognize Ted if she spotted him.

            “Now tell me what’s happening,” said Andromeda, fixing her gaze on her sister. All at once, Narcissa recalled each time the two of them had stayed up late whispering conspiratorially with Bellatrix and pretending to be asleep when their parents, disturbed by the noise when the girls hadn’t been nearly as quiet as they’d thought, had come to check on them.

            “I’m sure I’ll figure out a way to deal with this Thorfinn problem.” The words were unconvincing even to Narcissa, so she wasn’t surprised when Andromeda frowned.

            “It’s completely mad, what they’re trying to do. Cissy, I…” Andromeda paused, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh before reaching for both of her sister’s hands. “I never meant to hurt you, with my decisions. I never wanted our parents to punish you for what I did, and I’m so, so sorry that they’re trying to.”

            Narcissa nodded, squeezing the hands she held. “I know, Andi. I know you didn’t want this.”

            “I’m tempted to show up at home and let them know how I feel about it, to tell you the truth.”

            “No,” said Narcissa quickly and a little too loudly. A wizard a few tables over glanced in her direction and away again when he presumably determined that everything was fine. “I mean… we don’t know what they would do. I don’t want you to get in worse trouble because of me.”

            Andromeda laughed flatly, shaking her head. “What more can they do to me? I’ve already lost contact with nearly everyone in the family. I’ve lost my inheritance and a large portion of my belongings—everything I didn’t manage to take with me on the first trip, Mother made sure I knew she was going to either throw out or burn. Good riddance, honestly. I don’t need things that remind me of them.”

            _What about things that remind you of me?_ whispered a small voice in Narcissa’s mind, but she ordered it away immediately.

            “You’re handling this all really well,” she said instead. “I’m proud of you.”

            Andromeda smiled. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be handling it half as well, if it weren’t for still being able to talk to you. And then there’s this one.”

            She nodded toward the man approaching the table while attempting to carry three glasses of Butterbeer. His hair was fair—a sandy shade Narcissa thought nearly midway between her own and Andromeda’s—and he glanced from one sister to the other with a bright, genuine-looking smile that made Narcissa’s instinctive wariness of him ease the slightest bit. He seemed pleasant enough, at least.

            “You must be Narcissa,” he said, setting down each of the glasses and then offering her a hand, which she released Andromeda’s to shake. “I’ve heard unending positive things about you.”     

            “That’s good to know,” said Narcissa, smiling slightly. “And you must be Ted.”

            “I am indeed.” He settled into the seat his coat hung on, still smiling at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally.”

            “And you, as well.” Though she knew her parents would likely disown her for even thinking the words, she meant them. Disregarding his blood status, this man made her sister happy, and Andromeda deserved that much— _more_ than that, actually, but as Narcissa was in no position to give her anything but her own presence for this one evening in the way of support, she had to content herself with the idea that at least Ted could be there for Andromeda even when she herself could not.

            “How are you liking Hogwarts, this year?” Ted asked. “I have hope that at least some of the classes have gotten more interesting since I was there, but I’ve a habit of being disappointed by the educational system.”

            “It’s roughly the same as it has been,” said Narcissa, shrugging. Beside her, Andromeda took a drink from her Butterbeer, and Narcissa believed she caught sight of a smile on her sister’s lips. “Things are still chaotic right now with it being so close to the start-of-term, but overall, it’s—”

            She froze, her attention captured by movement at the front doors.

            Lucius stood at the entrance, glancing around the pub, and it was clear that he was looking for someone. The thought of diving under the table flashed through Narcissa’s mind—what would he think, if he saw her here with both Andromeda and Ted?—but she found herself suddenly unable to move. A moment later, Lucius’s gaze touched on hers, and he smiled, raising a hand to wave. Slowly, as her limbs no longer wished to obey her commands, Narcissa lifted her hand and returned the gesture. Across the table, Ted raised a brow and looked over his shoulder, and Narcissa realize too late that he’d probably been waiting for her to finish her sentence before her attention had been diverted.

            She watched Lucius’s smile falter as he looked to Ted and then back to Narcissa. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, and then Lucius started forward, his smile returning as he strode toward the table.

            “Nice to see you, Lucius,” said Andromeda with a smile of her own, kicking Narcissa hard in the shin beneath the table that led the younger sister to bite her lip to keep herself from letting out a yelp of pain. “Won’t you join us?”

            “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

            “Nonsense, we’ve only just settled in, ourselves. Right, Cissy?”

            “Absolutely.” Narcissa watched with wide eyes, completely certain that her heart was going to beat free of her chest at any moment, as Lucius took the only remaining empty seat: the one beside Ted.

            _Merlin help me_ , thought Narcissa, raising her glass to her lips and taking a very long drink of Butterbeer.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius attempts to have a civil conversation with Andromeda and Ted for Narcissa's sake and get her back to Hogwarts without being caught by their professors.

_This was probably not one of my better ideas._ The thought had entered Lucius’s mind the instant he’d caught sight of the third person at Narcissa’s table, and it had repeated on a loop as he’d approached them and taken the seat offered by Andromeda.

            He’d been disappointed when he’d received Narcissa’s note about postponing their meeting from Lenore, whom he’d run into on the stairs, but that disappointment had not been his motivation for traveling to Hogsmeade. When he’d read in the note that something had happened with Andromeda, he’d been concerned both for her and for Narcissa, who had a tendency to get involved with things in the interest of helping others and forget about the potential danger to herself. Sneaking off to Hogsmeade to meet her disowned sister might’ve made sense to her at the time, but Lucius wanted to be present in case something went wrong. If he and Narcissa were both caught instead of her alone, there was a greater chance that they could pass off the trip as ‘official Hogwarts business.’

            Narcissa had neglected to mention that Andromeda’s Mudblood husband would also be present.

            “Ted, this is Lucius Malfoy,” said Andromeda, nodding from one of them to the other. “He’s, ah, friends with Narcissa. Lucius, this is my husband Ted.”

            “Yes, I remember you,” said Lucius, slipping on a smile as he shook the hand Ted offered. “We didn’t speak much when you were in school, but you were in Andromeda’s year, weren’t you?”

            Ted nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Yes, I was. Proud Hufflepuff.”

            “Ah, good.” Lucius nodded, mentally thanking his father for placing him in awkward social situations over the years, as it had taught him the value of being polite even when doing so was almost painfully difficult. Lucius had nothing against Ted personally—they’d only ever met in passing, before today, and they’d never had a conversation of more than a few words—but he had absolutely no idea what to say. The differences between himself and Ted were vastly more numerous than their similarities. Lucius had enough difficulty finding conversational topics with members of other Houses without taking Ted’s blood status into account, as well. He had very little common ground with this man apart from their interest in women from the same family.

            “What brings you here?”

            Lucius looked to Andromeda to find her watching him. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and Lucius’s own twitched as he recognized the look in her eyes as one he’d seen many times before in others. She was enjoying his discomfort, though he doubted she would admit as much in front of her sister.

            “I was in the area,” said Lucius. “Thought I’d stop by for a drink.”

            He met the gaze of Narcissa, who raised a brow. He gave her a small shrug, hoping to convey that he would give her the full explanation later when they had the chance to be alone. At the risk of further questions, he changed the subject.

            “How did your classes go?” he asked Narcissa.

            “Fine.” She took a drink from her Butterbeer and rolled her shoulders back, drawing in a deep breath before speaking again. “What about you? Did the first-years break anything else?”

            “First-years?” repeated Andromeda.

            “Lucius had to rush off earlier to break up a fight,” said Narcissa, setting her glass on the table and folding her hands beside it.

            _I hope she’s not really irritated about that,_ thought Lucius, shifting his feet beneath the table.

            “I took care of it,” he said. “Took them to their professors and went about my day.”

            “You said you wanted a drink. I already got them for these two, so why don’t I go grab one for you?”

            Lucius glanced to Ted, opening his mouth to reply but coming up short. The last thing he’d expected was for Ted to show him kindness, and the last thing he wanted was to except the man’s charity. After a moment, he attempted to speak again.

            “Oh, that’s—that’s quite all right, you don’t have to—”

            “Nonsense.” Ted clapped Lucius on the shoulder, and Lucius gritted his teeth. “Any friend of my sister-in-law’s is a friend of mine.”

            Lucius had no time to argue the point, as Ted pushed back his chair and started for the bar without another word. Lucius sighed, looking to Narcissa to find her blushing.

            “He’s certainly… generous, Andromeda” Lucius offered. “I can see why you decided to…” He trailed off, uncertain of how to complete the thought. _Betray your family? Sacrifice the life you could’ve had and the ability to spend time with your sister without her risking trouble for you?_

            “Leave?” asked Andromeda over the rim of her glass. Lucius nodded, and Andromeda laughed. “I really hope you realize it wasn’t that simple.”

            “He didn’t say it was simple, Andi,” said Narcissa, shaking her head. “Don’t be defensive.”

            “Me?” Andromeda watched her sister for a moment too long for the gesture not to be intended to convey something. “It’s fine, Cissy, no one’s angry.” Andromeda took another drink and returned her focus to Lucius. “I’m glad you like Ted.”

            _‘Like’ is a strong word,_ he thought, but he said nothing.

            “The way I see it,” Andromeda went on, “He and I are meant to be. We’re tied together by something much bigger than ourselves, and we love each other to the ends of the Earth. I’d do whatever it takes to be with someone like that. Wouldn’t you?”

            Lucius tried to keep his attention on Andromeda as she spoke, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Narcissa. Their eyes met, and he looked away quickly, back to her sister.

            “Yes,” he said.

            He was spared further explanation by the return of Ted, who set another Butterbeer on the table in front of Lucius.

            “There you are,” said Ted, settling into his chair and reaching across the table to squeeze his wife’s hand.

            “Thank you, though I insist you let me pay for—”

            “Not another word on it, Malfoy.” Ted laughed and took a long drink from his own glass. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

            “I wouldn’t think of it.” Lucius raised his glass and drank, allowing the warmth and taste of the Butterbeer to ease some of his tension, if only for a few moments. He smiled and nodded as the others made small-talk about classes and other innocuous topics, interjecting now and then as the conversation required, and slowly drained his glass. Though he tried to focus on what was transpiring around him, he found his mind returning frequently to Andromeda’s description of her relationship with Ted. _‘Tied together by something bigger,’_ he mused. _That’s… quite a way to look at it._ He thought of the mark hidden beneath his robes and how he was certain the blonde across the table bore one in the form of his patronus in the same spot on her back in which the lioness was located on his.

            “It’s getting late,” Narcissa said at last. “We should really get back to the castle.”

            “Of course.” Andromeda leaned forward to embrace her sister, pressing a kiss to Narcissa’s cheek before leaning backward again. “Promise you’ll remember to write me?”

            “I promise.” Narcissa smiled and returned the kiss before standing, and Lucius got to his feet as well, pausing to stretch. “It was lovely to meet you,” Narcissa told Ted. “Take care of my sister.”

            “Always.” Ted smiled, looking from Narcissa to Andromeda.

            “Same goes for you,” Andromeda told Lucius, raising a brow.

            If he’d had any doubt as to whether she had caught on to what had begun brewing between him and Narcissa, that doubt was erased by the warning in the elder Black’s eyes.

            “Let’s get back.”

            Narcissa grabbed Lucius’s arm as she passed, pulling him toward the door and out of The Three Broomsticks. Darkness had fallen over Hogsmeade in the time they’d spent in the pub, and small groups of people drifted between patches of light thrown onto the ground from shop windows.

            “That went fairly well, I think,” said Lucius, walking quickly to keep up with the pace at which Narcissa had started to move through the street.

            She sighed shorty. “That was the most awkward I’ve ever felt in my life, and that’s saying something, considering. You weren’t just ‘in the area,’ were you?”

            Lucius hesitated. “No. I…” _I was worried about you._ “I wanted to make sure you were all right. In your note, it sounded like something might be wrong.”

            “I appreciate it, but I don’t think I have anything to worry about from And—oh no.”

            She froze, staring somewhere ahead of them on the path. Lucius frowned, following her gaze to find immediately what had startled her. Professor McGonagall was headed in their direction, deep in conversation with the wizard he recognized as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Neither had caught sight of the pair of students, yet, though Lucius doubted that small blessing would last. He grabbed Narcissa’s hand and pulled her into the shadow of the nearest shop, slipping carefully into the narrow alleyway between it and the building on its other side. The space was cramped—barely wide enough for both of them to fit—and untouched by the lights from the windows facing the street. The only sounds were those of the conversations of passersby and Narcissa’s unsteady breath. Lucius held tightly to her hand, trying to reassure her through the touch.

            “—and it makes me wonder, Minerva, if any of the students have an idea of what’s going on out there. If any of them might be _involved_ in it.”

            “What are you suggesting? That some of our students are working for You-Know-Who?”

            Lucius tensed. The sound of footsteps accompanied the voices as they drew nearer, and a pair of shadows spilled over the ground outside the alley. Narcissa scooted closer, laying her free hand on Lucius’s arm. She was near enough now that her blond hair brushed his neck, and he could smell her perfume. The scent reminded him of vanilla mixed with something floral.

            “I’m only saying that I’ve heard rumors about some of these families and that it wouldn’t surprise me if they’d been training their children in types of magic we don’t teach them.”

            The professors entered Lucius’s line of sight, and he caught his breath, determined not to give away his and Narcissa’s location. He watched as the professors passed and listened as their voices receded, and when he could no longer hear them or their footsteps, he let out a long sigh.

            “That was closer than I would’ve liked,” he said, still holding Narcissa’s hand as he took a step toward the street.

            “Was it?”

            He turned toward her to find her watching him, the lights from the street touching her eyes and making them appear brighter than usual amongst the shadows of the alley. His heart began to beat faster, and he lifted his free hand to brush a lock of hair from her face.

            “To them, at least,” he said quietly. “McGonagall and… what’s-his-name.”

            “Thomason,” she muttered. Her hand trembled just slightly in his, but she held his gaze evenly. “You really should know the professors’ names, since you’re—”

            “Cissy, you talk too much, sometimes.”

            Lucius shifted his hand to rest it gently at the back of her head, guiding her closer as he leaned down to kiss her. He closed his eyes, his hand releasing hers to rest on her waist as she laid her own on his chest. He was lost in the soft touch of her lips, in the scent of her perfume, in how close she was standing and how she didn’t seem to want to move away any more than he did. Eventually, though, the notion slipped back into his mind that the longer they stayed out, the greater the chance became that they would be discovered. Reluctantly, Lucius pulled back just enough to speak, his breath uneven.

            “We should probably get back.”

            He opened his eyes as Narcissa nodded, smiling at him. “Come on, then.”

            She reached once again for his hand, any hesitation she’d shown now gone entirely, and pulled him out of the alleyway and onto the street. Lucius glanced in the direction in which the professors had been heading to find them nowhere in sight, and then he returned his focus to Narcissa.

            “We didn’t exactly get to finish our conversation, earlier, you know.”

            She laughed. “So what is it you were going to say?”

            He felt his face beginning to flush, but he knew that he’d come too far to back down, now. He inhaled deeply to steady himself. “I wanted to tell you that I—”

            “Oi! Malfoy! Black!”

            Lucius groaned, turning toward the voice. His hand twitched as he debated whether to relinquish his hold on Narcissa’s, but he decided to hold onto it.

_I’m sure they’ve already noticed, anyway._

            Macnair, Rookwood, and Lenore were approaching from the direction of the castle, Rookwood and Macnair waving obnoxiously. The group hurried forward, and as they did so, Lucius’s suspicions were confirmed. Lenore was looking from him to Narcissa and back, not bothering to hide her smirk.

            “We were worried about getting caught,” said Augustus, “but I think having you two with us will throw off suspicion.”

            “Not likely,” said Lucius. “We’re going back to the castle. I suggest you join us, considering we’ve already seen two professors and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more.”

            “You really do kill all the fun,” said Walden.

            “It’s my job. Come on, you lot.”

            He started forward again, Narcissa fighting to suppress a laugh beside him. When they’d gained a few yards on the others, who appeared to be moving deliberately slowly, he looked to her with a half-smile.

            “What?” he asked.

            “So you’re finished breaking the rules, for the night?”

            “I believe so. I can only take so much excitement.”

            He ignored the jet of light that flashed through his periphery and the yelp of pain accompanying it. The others weren’t his problem if he didn’t acknowledge them, or so he told himself. He only hoped they would take the hint when they’d all returned to Hogwarts and that he would finally get the chance to speak his mind. That was, he believed, probably just a formality, now. Narcissa drifted steadily closer to him as they walked, and he was certain she already knew everything he wanted to say.

           

           

           


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa decides she wants to finish the patronus conversation.

For the duration of the walk back to the castle, Narcissa found herself unable to stop smiling. Part of her thought she was being ridiculous— _It was just one kiss, Cissy,_ said the voice at the back of her mind—but she was too happy to be bothered by it. When she’d caught sight of her friends approaching, she’d prepared herself for the disappointing possibility that Lucius would let go of her hand and the two of them would have to pretend that nothing had happened. Instead, he’d held on. It wasn’t until the group returned to the Common Room that Narcissa’s and Lucius’s hands separated as the two settled onto one of the black leather sofas and were forced to give Augustus room when he plopped down between them. Narcissa let out an irritable little sigh under her breath, giving her skirt a tug to free it from beneath the leg of Augustus, who had managed to sit on it. He yawned and stretched, raising his arms above his head and bringing them down to rest on the shoulders of Narcissa and Lucius as Walden and Lenore took seats on the sofa opposite theirs.

            “Considering we’re apparently being extra friendly, this evening,” said Augustus by way of explanation for the placement of his arms, raising a brow as he glanced between the two sitting on either side of him. Narcissa looked away, unable to withstand his questioning gaze and more than slightly frustrated that he’d come quite literally between Lucius and herself when they’d only had a few moments to be alone after nearly being found by their professors.

            _Figures,_ she thought, staring at a tapestry hanging behind where Walden sat. _I don’t know why I expected them_ not _to show up. Usually, I’d have been on the other side of all this, telling at least those three how bad of an idea it is to try to sneak out and how likely they’d be to get caught. I’d have kept my nose out of it, if it weren’t for Andromeda._ Narcissa knew her sister hadn’t intended to get her in trouble, and she herself had thought about the consequences very little, were she to be found—until she and Lucius had spotted McGonagall and Thomason, and Narcissa had very nearly snapped to her senses. Of course, that had all been thrown out the window when Lucius had kissed her.

            He’d kissed her. She still couldn’t believe it or entirely convince herself that she hadn’t dreamt the whole thing, considering the entire day felt like something far too strange to have taken place at all. In addition to everything else that had happened, she’d managed to sit through a decent conversation with the sister she hadn’t seen in months and the man that sister had left the family for, and that man—that Muggleborn man, who was no doubt aware of the distaste everyone else at the table had been raised to feel toward his parentage—had bought them all drinks, including Lucius, who wasn’t supposed to have been there in the first place.

            _If this term gets any stranger, I may need to check myself into St. Mungo’s._

            “They’re not going to say anything, Rookwood,” said Walden, and as Narcissa stared at the heavy stitching of the tapestry, she saw him shake his head in her periphery. “Be less subtle.”

            Narcissa let out a pained, indignant “ _Hey!_ ” as Augustus thumped her on the back of the head, Lucius glaring at the boy between them as he received a similar smack.

            “Someone had better start explaining,” said Augustus with exaggerated patience. “Or didn’t you think we would notice?”

            “It isn’t exactly like you not to comment on things the second you notice them,” said Narcissa, raising a brow, “so I was growing skeptical.”

            “We wanted to give you two a few moments.” Augustus shrugged. “See what they do?” he asked, looking to Walden and Lenore. “We give them peace, out of the goodness of our hearts, and they complain.”

            “I didn’t say anything.” Lucius got to his feet, shaking his head and beginning to pace between the two couches. “I was perfectly fine with you lot keeping your mouths shut, and now you’ve gone and ruined it. For that reason and because it’s getting ungodly late, the last person in this room gets a detention. And… go.”

            No one moved immediately. Walden frowned.

            “You’re not serious?” he prodded.

            “Or if you’re all still here, I suppose I can just write them for separate activities and times, just to annoy you.”

            Narcissa slid off the couch and to her feet, shaking her head and fighting back a smile. She was relatively certain that Lucius was bluffing, but the haste with which Walden and Augustus started for the door was amusing, nonetheless. Lenore hurried to Narcissa’s side and grabbed her hand, pulling her along and glancing back to stick out her tongue at Lucius. Narcissa looked backward, as well, and before Lenore pulled her out of view, she believed she saw Lucius wink at her.

            “I want details,” Lenore demanded the moment she’d closed the dormitory door behind them. “Now.”

            “What’re you going on about?”

            Narcissa glanced toward the voice to find the other residents of her dormitory, Rosalyn Selwyn and Johanna Jugson, who were currently seated on Rosalyn’s bed and looking rather sour. Rosalyn, whose hair was of a blond several shades darker than Narcissa’s, watched the newcomers with a raised brow.

            “Something’s going on between this one and Lucius Malfoy,” said Lenore, nudging Narcissa with her shoulder as she passed on the way to her own four-poster, where she sat and patted the spot beside her. Narcissa ignored the invitation and moved instead toward her own area. She grabbed a book from her desk and settled onto her bed, pretending to be absorbed in the random page to which she opened what she realized too late was her Potions text.

            “Oh, lovely,” said Rosalyn flatly. Narcissa didn’t need to look up to detect her roommate’s irritation, nor did she wish to be involved in further conversation. “At least someone’s enjoying herself.”

            “He’ll come around, Rosalyn,” said Johanna.

            “Just go to sleep,” Rosalyn snapped. A moment later, a breeze swept through the room, and the light disappeared as the candles were extinguished.

            “Was that necessary?” asked Narcissa, glaring at where she’d last seen Rosalyn as she shifted the Potions book back onto her desk, moving carefully in the darkness to be certain it ended up in the right place.

            “You could’ve at least waited until I got back to my bed,” grumbled Johanna. Narcissa heard the shifting of a mattress and a loud _thump_ followed by a pained cry, and she sighed, lying down and staring into the darkness above her.

Steadily, the sound of the other girls’ breathing became more rhythmic and even, and Narcissa realized she was probably the only one still awake. She also wasn’t the least bit tired.

            She reached for her wand and cast a quiet _Lumos_ , climbing out of bed and moving quietly out the door. She tried hard not to second-guess what she was planning to do.

            _It’s going to be fine. You both wanted a chance to finish that conversation. So take the chance._

            Narcissa crept through the passages of the Slytherin Dungeons, determined not to attract the attention of the rest of her House as she made her way to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory. The door was cracked, thankfully, and she muttered “ _Nox_ ” to eliminate the light her wand had been producing before giving the door a slight push, opening it enough to allow her to fit through to the other side.

            Everyone appeared to be asleep, or at least attempting to be so. A candle on Walden’s desk was still burning, giving off just enough light for Narcissa to locate Lucius, who was lying on his side and facing away from the door. Silently, she crossed the room toward him and rested her hand gently on his shoulder.

            He sat up with a jolt, turning toward her and raising his wand, which he’d dragged from beneath his pillow. As his gaze fell on Narcissa, he visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh and opening his mouth to speak. She pressed her index finger to his lips with a shake of her head, nodding toward the half-open door. He nodded, climbing out of bed and pulling on the shirt that had been draped over the back of his chair. Narcissa ignored the slight disappointment that flickered through her mind and the blush that began to spread over her cheeks as she acknowledged that disappointment.

            She turned away and slipped out the door, Lucius following close behind. When they had moved a safe distance from the dormitory, he spoke.

            “What’s going on?”

            Narcissa shrugged. “I just thought it would be easier for us to talk without everyone else butting in.”

            She led him into the Common Room and sat down on a cushion by the fire, which had nearly burned down to nothing but still provided warmth. He sat down beside her, and for a moment, she only watched him, staring what she was certain was a little too long at the grey of his eyes.

            “What did you want to tell me, in the Great Hall?” she asked quietly.

            He held her gaze steadily, saying nothing for a while. “You already know, don’t you?” he asked at last. “You saw my mark after I fell, and you had to know.”

            Narcissa’s heart pounded as she nodded slowly. “I knew.”

            “That it was your patronus.”

            She nodded again.

            “I saw you cast it, in Thomason’s class.” Lucius let out a short laugh, shaking his head. The firelight danced in his white-blond hair as he moved, and Narcissa ordered herself to focus. “I feel like an idiot for not figuring all this out sooner, you know.”

            “Don’t. I didn’t pick up on it as quickly as I should have.” Narcissa tried to smile, ignoring the slight trembling in her hands. “I suppose I just… well, I didn’t want to make things awkward between us, if I’d guessed wrong.”

            He reached out to slip his fingers between hers and bring her hand upward, brushing his lips over its back. Her skin tingled.

            “Things will never be awkward between us,” he said.

            She smiled, watching him closely. “That’s good to know. Could I… see the mark again? I didn’t get a good look, with Lenore poking about, and I’m sort of fascinated by the whole idea.” This was easier to admit than she’d anticipated. She’d spent so long wondering about soulmates and patronuses since Andromeda’s mark had appeared, and now that she and Lucius each knew the truth, she felt as though an immense weight had lifted from her shoulders.

            “Ah… sure.” He released her hand, and as he turned around, she believed she caught the slightest tinge of embarrassment in his expression, though she doubted she would’ve detected it if she hadn’t known him as well as she did. He was skilled at keeping on a calm mask. However, she doubted he’d expected her to ask him to show her the mark.

            Lucius pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the cushions beside him, and Narcissa leaned forward, reaching out with gentle fingers to trace the likeness of her patronus etched in silver on his back.

            “It’s so incredible,” she breathed. “This kind of magic, it’s… something else.”

            “It really is.”

            “I, ah… I’ve got yours, as well.”

            Narcissa turned around, trying to ignore the nervous twisting in her stomach as she lifted her shirt slightly, trying to allow him to see the mark without completely throwing out her sense of propriety. Still, she imagined that if her mother could see her now, Druella would be hissing and spitting and Narcissa would be confined to her room for the next several years.

            “Cissy, you don’t have to—”

            “It’s okay. Really. I do trust you, you know.”

            She heard a light sigh from behind her followed by shifting, and she realized that he’d waited to turn around until her word. Her heart was still beating ridiculously fast, and she closed her eyes at the soft touch of his fingers tracing the image of the lion on her back. A moment passed as his hand lingered, and then she felt the material of her shirt slip from her grasp as he pulled it back down into place. She opened her eyes as his arms wound around her from behind, and she smiled.

            “It’s definitely mine. Incredible,” Lucius said, leaning around to kiss her cheek.

            She ran her hands gently along his arms, and then she paused, glancing down at his left forearm and the same tattoo she’d spotted the last time she’d seen her sister Bellatrix. The Dark Mark. The symbol of the side Lucius had chosen in the conflict brewing outside the castle’s walls and the reminder that he’d already begun to fight.

            Narcissa felt Lucius’s entire body tense, and he started to draw back, but she tightened her grip on his right arm and traced the black image on his left gently with her thumb.

            “It doesn’t change anything.”

            She looked up to meet his eyes, and he smiled, starting to relax once again. Narcissa shifted, turning slightly to face him and leaning closer. Lucius closed the remaining distance between them and met her lips.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Narcissa discuss their relationship with their friends, only to be interrupted by the antics of Alecto Carrow.

The fire had long-since burned out by the time Lucius finally accepted that he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open for much longer. He lay on his side watching the peaceful expression that had taken over Narcissa’s face and the steady rise and fall of her chest with her breath, and he wondered whether he should disturb her. She’d been wide awake when she’d entered his dormitory and led him to the Common Room, but an hour or so after they’d leaned back on the cushions to talk more comfortably, she’d closed her eyes in the middle of one of his Quidditch stories and had faded into sleep. He hadn’t been certain how long this would last, but judging by how perfectly still she had been ever since, she needed the rest.

            He carefully slipped his hand from hers and sat up, drawing her into his arms and attempting not to jostle her more than absolutely necessary as he got to his feet. Lucius kept his footsteps as quiet as possible as he wove through the dungeons and to the proper dormitory. He said a silent prayer of thanks when he observed that the rest of the girls were asleep, and he laid Narcissa down gently on her bed, pulling the blankets up over her before returning to his room.

* * *

 “So are you planning to tell us where you snuck off to, last night?”

            “Nope.” Lucius smirked, taking a bite of toast and ignoring the glares from across the table. It was really none of Walden’s or Augustus’s business, but he knew they weren’t likely to abandon their curiosity anytime soon. He had to admit, he was enjoying keeping them uninformed. This wouldn’t last, he knew; among the things he and Narcissa had discussed before she’d fallen asleep the previous night had been the idea that they would have to be open with their friends about their relationship sooner or later. Until then, though, it felt rather liberating to have secrets from these two who knew next to everything else about him.

            Lucius scratched unconsciously at the place beneath his sleeve where he bore the image of a skull devouring a serpent. The Dark Mark may have tied him to the boys sitting across from him at the Slytherin table, but at the moment, he was rather more excited about the connection solidified by the lioness on his back.

            “I thought you were asleep, anyway, when I left,” he said.

            Walden shrugged, throwing back the remainder of his glass of juice and setting it down loudly on the table. “All I know is I woke up from a very confusing dream with questions for you and you weren’t there.”

            Lucius raised a brow. “What were your questions?”

            “Don’t ask him,” said Augustus, grimacing as he shook his head. “It’s a complete waste of time. He woke me up with them when you weren’t there, and I’m still not convinced he wasn’t drunk.”

            “Are you, in fact, secretly a member of the Holyhead Harpies?” asked Walden, his voice low and conspiratorial.

            Lucius choked on his toast, and Augustus snorted.

            “You do realize, Walden,” said Lucius, “that only women play for the Harpies?”

            Walden frowned. “I thought that was more of a precedent than an actual rule.”

            “You’re mental.” Lucius rolled his eyes. “And when would I have time to get to Wales?”

            “Told you,” said Augustus, “trying to make sense of him is a waste of time.”

            “I could’ve told you that,” said Lenore, sitting down on Walden’s other side with a grin at the same moment Narcissa settled into the seat next to Lucius.

            “You haven’t seemed to mind,” said Walden, raising a brow at Lenore.

            Lucius tuned them out, looking to Narcissa with a smile. “Morning,” he said.

            “Good morning.” She returned his smile and then leaned in a bit closer to speak more quietly, her long hair brushing his arm. “I’m fairly certain I didn’t wake in the same place I fell asleep. Thanks for that. You could’ve woken me, though.”

            Lucius shrugged, taking a bite of bacon. “You seemed exhausted, and I didn’t want to disturb you. Besides, it was no trouble.”

            “What’re you two mumbling about?”

            Lucius shot a glare at Augustus, who was glancing from him to Narcissa and back.

            “Mind your own business, will you, Rookwood?”

            Beneath the table, Lucius felt a hand rest atop his own, and he glanced to Narcissa.

            “We might as well,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand. “They’re just going to get progressively more irritating until we say something.”

            Lucius sighed. _So much for having a secret. Nice while it lasted._ “As you wish,” he said.

            Lenore slammed her hand down onto the table, her eyes wild. “I knew it! I knew something was going on!” She glanced to Walden and Augustus. “Didn’t you notice how strangely Narcissa started acting when she saw the soulmate mark on Lucius’s back?”

            “I was a little distracted trying to hunt down and murder Rowle,” said Walden, “so not particularly, no.”

            Lenore sighed. “You’re so helpful, love.”

            “So what you’re suggesting,” said Augustus, talking over her, “is that these two are soulmates?” He looked from Lenore to Narcissa, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than necessary before moving to Lucius.

            “Yes,” said Narcissa. “Thanks for taking the fun out of telling everyone, Lenny.”

            Lenore’s cheeks flushed. “Sorry. Regardless, I’m thrilled for you. I also had several Galleons on it, so I’ll need to talk with Johanna. She’s going to hate me.”

            “Well, there you have it,” said Lucius with a sigh. “Now you can all go back to minding yourselves and not asking questions.”

            “To go ‘back’ to that, we’d have had to do it to start with, mate,” said Walden, shrugging.

            “ _Get away from me!_ ”

            The group’s collective attention shifted toward the shout from near the doors, and Lucius’s eyes narrowed. At the other end of the Great Hall, an irate-looking Nickolas Crabbe was staring down Alecto Carrow, whose arm was half-extended toward him. The room’s noise level dropped to half as people at each of the House tables attempted to listen in on what was taking place.

            “Nickolas, stop this. You know I love—”

            “I know you _used_ me, and that you’re mad!”

            Crabbe turned away, frowning deeply as he started for the Slytherin table. Alecto stood watching him, her shoulders lifting and falling rapidly with her breath. A sneer worked its way onto her lips, and she reached into her robes to produce her wand as she mouthed the word “ _mad._ ”

            _Can’t I have just one meal without some sort of disaster?_ Lucius thought irritably, standing up from the table at the moment Narcissa did the same. Without verbal agreement to do so, they started together toward the disturbance, each drawing a wand.

            “Alecto, don’t—”

            “Stay out of this, Black! And you, Malfoy! This doesn’t concern either of you!”

            “It does, actually. Oh, no, you don’t.” Lucius grabbed Nickolas by the arm and pulled him aside as Narcissa continued toward Alecto. “The hell’s going on, here? Outside, both of you.”

            “Get back,” said Alecto through gritted teeth, brandishing her wand in Narcissa’s direction.

            Narcissa rolled her eyes. “ _Expelliarmus._ ” Alecto’s wand flew from its owner’s hand, and Narcissa reached out to catch it before laying her hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “Let’s go outside.”

            Alecto huffed and allowed herself to be led forward, and Lucius nodded after her and Narcissa, indicating to Nickolas to follow them. When the four reached the Entrance Hall, Lucius looked from Alecto to Nickolas and back again.

            “Now explain what’s happening,” he demanded.

            “She’s been slipping me Amortentia,” said Nickolas with a sneer, nodding toward Alecto. “I’d told her I wanted to be with Rosalyn, and she wouldn’t have it.”

            Lucius sighed heavily, turning to Alecto. “Is this true?”

            Alecto shrugged. “So what if it is? It’s between Nickolas and myself.”

            “Considering that if what he says is true, it’s a violation of quite a few school rules,” said Narcissa, folding her arms over her chest, “you’ve made it our business, as well.”

            Alecto glared at her fiercely. Narcissa held the other girl’s gaze, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

            “Unfortunately,” said Lucius, “this is something we’re going to have to get the teachers involved with, so well done. Narcissa, would you please take Nickolas ahead to find Professor Slughorn? I need to speak with Alecto for a moment, and then I’ll be right behind you.”

            Narcissa nodded. She motioned Nickolas forward, and the two of them started toward the dungeons. When they’d gone, Lucius turned to Alecto.

            “You do realize how stupid it is to draw this kind of attention to yourself, don’t you?” He scowled. “You know how bad things could get for all of us, if you get yourself in this kind of trouble?”

            Alecto laughed flatly. “You really think I’m going to drag down the rest of you because of a love potion? Please, Lucius. I’m not an idiot.”

            “Could’ve fooled me. _Any_ negative attention you receive from the staff is going to get them looking at our House, and if they decide to be observant enough, they’ll start connecting dots between people.”

            “Are you forgetting that Nickolas is one of us?”

            “Exactly!” cried Lucius in exasperation. “ _Two_ of our people being scrutinized by Dumbledore is the last thing we need! Didn’t you hear his speech, at the start of term?”

            “He won’t put anything together,” Alecto insisted, shaking her head. She paused and then let out a long sigh. “Yes, I know it was stupid. But Nickolas and I were perfectly happy until his damned mark appeared, and what was I supposed to do, just let him run off with Rosalyn bloody Selwyn?”

            Lucius closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’ve a feeling that’s what most normal people would’ve done, yes.”

            “What do you know?” Alecto snapped. “It’s not like you’ve found your match, either.”

            Lucius opened his eyes slowly, his mouth set in a firm line as he watched the brunette. Alecto frowned.

            “Really? Is it _everyone_ else, then?”

            She cried out in frustration and then turned away, starting in the direction of the dungeons, and Lucius hurried forward to keep pace. He knew enough about Alecto to know that her intentions likely included attempting to slip off to somewhere other than Slughorn’s office.

            “Is it _her_?” Alecto asked scathingly, nodding in the direction Narcissa had disappeared with Nickolas.

            “Yes,” said Lucius.

            Alecto stopped walking and turned to face him. “You’re joking.”

            “Clearly not. If it was obvious enough for you to know without my saying—”

            “She’s nothing like you.” Alecto stepped forward slowly, and Lucius, growing rapidly uncomfortable, moved backward. “It’s just like with Nickolas and Rosalyn. Black doesn’t understand you. Not the way I do.” Alecto reached out to touch Lucius’s forearm, and he pulled it backward, glaring at her.

            “She knows very well,” he said sharply, “what I am—what _we_ are, you and me and the rest. And that’s all I care to tell you on the subject. Move forward, Carrow.”

            Neither of them said another word on the remainder of the walk to Slughorn’s office.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa overhears Alecto's comments about her to Lucius and strikes back using her influence with Professor Slughorn. She doesn't hide her jealousy as well as she hopes.

_What in the world is keeping them?_

            Narcissa frowned as she glanced between Professor Slughorn and Nickolas Crabbe, the former watching the latter curiously as he paced behind his desk. Slughorn had wanted a full explanation for what Narcissa had called ‘ _a severely-unnecessary disturbance_ ’ in the Great Hall, but Nickolas had refused to explain until Alecto arrived with Lucius. It seemed Nickolas felt that since he was the one who had been wronged, he owed no one an explanation, and Narcissa couldn’t say she disagreed. She’d been following the drama surrounding Nickolas, Alecto, and Rosalyn from a distance, though she’d tried her hardest not to become involved. She thought she’d done rather well so far, considering that she shared a dormitory with Rosalyn, who had already roped Johanna into the mess the situation had become. Unfortunately, Narcissa’s Prefect duties had solidified her role in the conflict at last, and she’d managed to agitate the highly-volatile Alecto Carrow in the process.

            _Andi would kill me,_ Narcissa thought, sighing internally. More often than not, Narcissa got along well with her fellow Slytherins. She was just as cunning as her sister Bellatrix, though she possessed a gift the eldest Black did not: subtlety. Narcissa knew when to speak and when silence would serve her more effectively, and as a result she’d made it to her sixth year at Hogwarts without making many enemies. She’d entered her fair share of petty arguments—as had every teenager, Narcissa reasoned—but she’d kept from provoking people she knew were dangerous on instinct. She’d navigated hazardous waters with Thorfinn for as long as she could manage before Lucius had intervened, and he’d taken the brunt of Thorfinn’s rage, or so it seemed at the moment. Narcissa doubted things with Thorfinn were resolved, but she was glad that she could at least stop pretending to support in any way her mother’s decision to betroth her to him.

            What she didn’t need was to have two people irritated with her who she knew were far more skilled in the Dark Arts than she herself ever intended to be. Alecto had been prepared to hex Narcissa in front of everyone in the Great Hall. As she set the wand she’d confiscated from the other girl down at the edge of Slughorn’s desk, Narcissa wondered exactly what she would do, if she found herself in a position to duel Alecto. As a Prefect, it was her job to keep other students from stirring up trouble. But as a Black and now as the girlfriend of a Malfoy, it was her duty to support the Dark Lord and those who followed him, lest she be cast out in the same way Andromeda had only months before.

            “I’m going to go check on them,” she said, eager to break the silence filling the office. Avoiding the gazes of Nickolas and Slughorn, she returned to the corridor to find it empty. Narcissa frowned. Lucius had told her that he and Alecto would be right behind her, but they were nowhere to be found. She returned to the staircase and had made her way up roughly half of the steps when she caught sight of Lucius and Alecto, who were paused several yards ahead on the first floor.

            Narcissa’s eyes narrowed.

            Alecto was moving closer to Lucius, who had nearly backed into the wall.

“It’s just like with Nickolas and Rosalyn,” said the brunette. “Black doesn’t understand you. Not the way I do.”

Alecto’s hand touched Lucius’s arm, and Narcissa turned away, retreating down the stairs as quickly as she could move.

            She struggled hard to keep her mind blank as she retraced her steps to Slughorn’s office. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on what she’d seen and overheard. If she did, she knew she would lose the small amount of self-control that had kept her from charging up the stairs and hexing Alecto into next July. If she focused on the truth behind what the other girl had said, she knew she might go mad.

            _She’s in training, too. She probably thinks I’m too weak for him. What the hell does she know?_

            Narcissa hurtled into Slughorn’s office, and the professor looked to her with wide eyes.

            “Are you quite all right, Miss Black?”

            “Hm?” Narcissa blinked, realizing a bit too late that her breaths were heavy and rapid and that more of her agitation had seeped through to the surface than she’d planned to allow. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, Professor, I’m fine. I just—”

            She paused as she caught sight of a pair of shadows drawing near in the corridor, her mouth growing dry. She glanced back to Slughorn to find him watching her expectantly, but she couldn’t quite recall what she’d been planning to say. Instead of speaking, she stepped out of the way of the door, folding her arms over her chest and watching the threshold until Lucius entered the room, followed by a disgruntled-looking Alecto.

            Narcissa raised a brow.

            “My apologies for the delay, Professor,” said Lucius, nodding to Slughorn respectfully. “I didn’t mean to keep you all waiting.”

            “Not a problem, my boy,” said Slughorn, circling around his desk to lean back against it as he glanced among the students. “Now will someone kindly explain what’s happened? I was just about to go to breakfast.”

            “Miss Carrow has been accused of using an illegal love potion on Mr. Crabbe,” Lucius explained. As he spoke, his gaze traveled from Slughorn to Narcissa, and when it landed on her, his face fell slightly, a question in his eyes. She supposed she still looked flustered, and she turned away quickly, staring at the corner of Slughorn’s desk and listening as Lucius continued. “Amortentia, to be more specific.”

            “That’s quite the accusation, Mr. Crabbe,” said Slughorn, his tone incredulous.

            “I have evidence,” growled Nickolas. “My mates tested the drinks she’d been giving me and found quite a bit of the potion. They poured everything out, and I started to come to my senses.”

            “What type of drinks are we discussing?” asked Slughorn. “I really hope not to have to add another charge to both of you when this is already so severe.”

            Narcissa looked up in time to see a flicker of fear pass through Nickolas’s eyes, and she shook her head slightly. _Idiots, both of them._

“I think the point, Professor Slughorn, is that Alecto has been manipulating me through the use of Amortentia and should be punished for it.”

            “It was Firewhiskey,” said Alecto, smirking. “I knew to put the potion in it because he’s been smuggling Firewhiskey in on his own for the last three terms.”

            “I swear to the gods, Carrow, if you don’t shut it—”

            “Oh, this is getting ridiculous,” said Slughorn, reaching up to rub his temple as he closed his eyes. “You’re both making a mockery of our House. I’m going to have to take ten points from Slytherin on your behalf, Nickolas, and thirty on yours, Alecto. You’ll also be facing a more severe punishment for the use of an illegal potion on another student, Miss Carrow. I’ll have to confer with Professor Dumbledore about what exactly you’ll be doing to make amends, but I can promise you it won’t be pleasant. Potions are not to be abused for any reason, least of all for personal gain.” Slughorn shook his head and opened his eyes at last, glancing between the remaining two students. “However, I’ll award ten points to each of you, Lucius and Narcissa. It would seem you’ve been doing your jobs quite well, for the first week of term.”

            “Thank you, Sir,” said Lucius.

            “It’s been quite a long week,” muttered Narcissa, still not looking at him.

            “That it has,” said Slughorn, and Narcissa’s blush returned, as she hadn’t meant for him to hear her. “You two are free to go. I’ll keep Carrow and Crabbe a bit longer.”

            “Alecto also tried to hex me.”

            All eyes in the room shifted to Narcissa, but she kept her focus on Slughorn. He sighed heavily.

            “Noted.”

            Narcissa nodded and started for the door, and she’d only made it a few steps into the corridor when Lucius appeared in her periphery.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did something happen with Nickolas, when you went ahead?”

            Narcissa laughed humorlessly, staring at the path in front of her. “Nickolas? No.”

            “Slughorn, then? Cissy, look at me. What’s going on?”

            Sighing, she turned to face him, meeting his eyes at last. He was frowning, his concern apparent on his features.

            “Alecto’s right, you know,” Narcissa said quietly. She tried to keep her voice firm, but she couldn’t keep the entirety of her pain from leaving her lips with her words. “She’s seen parts of you that I haven’t.”

            Lucius stared at her for a long moment, understanding passing over his face followed by the return of his frown.

            “Narcissa…” He paused, shook his head, and began again. “Do you have any plans, right now?”

            It was her turn to frown. “What?”

            “Just answer me, please.”

            “No, I don’t have anything planned at all, today. Why?”

            He held out his hand, and she hated that she only hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it. He led her down the corridor that would’ve taken them to the Slytherin Common Room, but instead of following it there, he stopped short, producing his wand and using it to tap a series of stones along the wall. Narcissa watched incredulously as the stones shifted and parted, creating a space large enough for a person to fit through. Lucius entered first and she followed, and the wall sealed behind them once again, leaving them in darkness. He cast a quick _Lumos_ and, and she saw that they had entered a narrow passageway. A few paces ahead, the floor connected to a steep stone staircase.

            “How do you…?”

            “Walden found this one, actually,” said Lucius, starting up the steps. Narcissa held to his hand tightly and followed him upward. “He’s resourceful, which is nice when he doesn’t waste his talent on getting fifth-years to do his assignments.” Lucius tapped his wand against a stone in the wall at which the staircase seemed to end abruptly, and Narcissa squinted at the harsh light that entered the passageway when the wall opened onto the grounds. She followed him out into the sunshine and caught her breath.

            They stood at the edge of the Black Lake. The breeze blowing off the surface of the water sent a shiver running through her, and he squeezed her hand.

            “All right, I’m impressed,” said Narcissa. “But why are we here?”

            Suddenly, Lucius sat down, pulling her along with him. She nearly fell onto the grass, but she managed to sit somewhat gracefully, aside from the lock of hair that landed in front of her eyes. She brushed it away with her free hand and tried not to smile. She wasn’t ready to let go of her frustration entirely.

            “You heard what Alecto said in the Entrance Hall.” Lucius’s words were a statement; Narcissa’s behavior had, she knew, eliminated the need for a question. She hated that she’d slipped up enough to show him how much the other girl’s words had stung her, but it was too late to change that, now.

            “And I saw her touch you,” Narcissa said quietly.

            “Did you see me pull away or hear me tell her effectively to shove off?”

            Narcissa’s stomach twisted. She glanced out over the rippling water, drawing in a deep breath and allowing the scent of the fresh air and the lake to wash over her.

            “No, I didn’t,” she said, her embarrassment returning. “I didn’t stay.”

            “Perhaps you should have.”

            She felt the gentle touch of a hand on her cheek, and Lucius turned Narcissa’s head, guiding her gaze back to his.

            “Alecto Carrow is manipulative and cruel, as you’ve seen,” he said. “I’ve seen it, too, in much more extreme ways. And yes, she’s seen me do things that… I’m not incredibly proud of. Things I’ve only done because they’re necessary, not because I enjoy causing pain. She, on the other hand, does enjoy it. I want nothing to do with someone like that. Narcissa, I don’t want anything to do with anyone who isn’t you.”

            Narcissa was powerless to fight the smile spreading over her lips at Lucius’s words. She reached out to run her hand lightly through his hair.

            “I don’t care,” she said, “who’s seen that part of you. I like this part quite a bit.”

            “Just don’t talk about it too loudly.” He leaned closer, his breath tickling her cheek as his lips brushed against it. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

            Narcissa laughed, turning her head to kiss him softly. Lucius’s hand drifted lightly down her neck, and she suppressed a shiver at the touch. A few moments later, he pulled back, his face contorted in what looked like pain.

            “Are you all right?”

            “I… yes. It’s nothing.”

            “It doesn’t look like nothing. Lucius, what’s wrong?”

            He watched her for several seconds longer, his hand skimming down her arm on its way to resting on his own sleeve. He then glanced to a spot on his forearm, and her heart sank as she understood.

            “He can’t want anything from you now, can he?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice despite her efforts to keep it at bay. “Not while you’re at school?”

            “He hasn’t before, but that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know, Cissy. I just know I need to find out what’s going on, or the pain will only get worse.”

            She nodded slowly. She couldn’t imagine what he could learn on the subject while still at Hogwarts; he would, she assumed, have to travel elsewhere. He’d already broken one rule because of her, and now he would likely be breaking another. She hated the thought of his taking unnecessary risks, but this one, she knew, was one he viewed as necessary.

            “Just be careful,” she said softly. “If anyone asks, I’ll cover for you.”

            “Thank you.” He leaned in close to leave another kiss on her lips, this one much briefer than the last. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, when I get back. I promise.”

            “You’d better.” She smiled thinly, watching as he drew back and got to his feet.

            “Are you coming back inside?” he asked when she did not move.

            “Eventually. For now, I think I’ll stay out here. It’s such a nice morning, after all.”

            “All right. I’ll find you as soon as I can.” He reached down to squeeze her shoulder and turned away, returning through the castle through the passage they’d taken to reach the lake. When he’d gone, Narcissa looked out over the water once more. An unsettling feeling of worry melded with resignation had made its home in her stomach, made worse by the inescapable knowledge that it was a feeling to which she would have to become accustomed rather quickly, if she planned to survive loving Lucius.

            _Loving?_

            She closed her eyes, lowering her face into her hands. Of all the times she could’ve admitted this to herself, she felt that she had naturally chosen the least opportune. She was entirely unsurprised.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius asks Professor Dumbledore for permission to leave Hogwarts briefly.

As he made his way through the dungeons, Lucius struggled to keep his thoughts on the situation at hand and not on Narcissa’s kiss, and he found that he was not prepared for how difficult it was to do so. He hated that he’d had to leave her so quickly. He’d intended to spend quite a while by the lake; he’d had so much trouble getting her alone for more than a few minutes at a time, and when he’d realized exactly how upset she’d been by what had transpired between Alecto and himself, he’d wanted to spend the day proving exactly how uninterested he was in anyone but Narcissa.

            Unfortunately, the Dark Lord had other plans.

            _Doesn’t he realize how impossible it is for me to get to him, now?_

            Lucius paused, reaching out to steady himself against the cool stone wall to as the burning in his forearm intensified. He drew in a long, deep breath and forced it out again. He felt the urge to Apparate and knew that, when he did, he would be drawn to wherever the Dark Lord wished. But he couldn’t Apparate within school grounds, and leaving Hogwarts wasn’t permitted.

            _What the hell am I supposed to do?_

The only plan of action that made any sense to him was returning home. Perhaps his father would know what the Dark Lord wanted, and if nothing else, Lucius could more easily escape the anti-Apparition field surrounding Malfoy Manor than he could the one enclosing Hogwarts. He couldn’t leave the school without permission given explicitly by the Headmaster, and Dumbledore was the last person he wanted to see, save perhaps Alecto and Thorfinn. Lucius had done everything in his power to avoid Dumbledore since the start of term. The Headmaster’s speech at the year’s first feast had unnerved him, and with his fellow Death Eaters stirring up trouble and drawing so much attention to themselves, Lucius knew placing himself intentionally in Dumbledore’s path was not a good idea.

            If it weren’t for the pain that had begun to spread throughout his arm like thousands of tiny needles sliding under his skin, he wouldn’t have considered the idea. As things were, however, he knew he needed to find a solution quickly. He’d heard of awful things happening to those who ignored the summons for too long. Nott’s father had once delayed Apparating until the pain had become severe enough to rob him of consciousness, and on a separate occasion, Rabastan Lestrange had been pulled forcefully to join the Dark Lord by his Mark, finding himself several hundred miles from where he’d started without consciously deciding to Apparate. Rabastan had been ill for days afterward, and in lieu of comforting words, his brother Rodolphus had only told him, “ _You should’ve just gone to him, you idiot._ ”

            Lucius found the idea of allowing his pain to multiply enough to render him unconscious highly unappealing, and considering the shields in place around the school, he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he were pulled away through forced Apparition apart from the fact that it would certainly be disastrous.

            He knew speaking with Dumbledore was his only real option.

            Starting up the steps upward from the dungeons and toward the Headmaster’s Office, Lucius pondered exactly what he planned to tell Dumbledore. He knew his own position as Head Boy was likely to lead to a strong objection to his departure from the school—he had a job to do and students to look after. He knew this. He’d worked for the first six years of his education toward gaining this post, and he took an immense amount of pride in holding it. His selection was proof that he had succeeded in proving himself as a capable leader, which was something he planned to apply to all areas of his life, in school and vastly beyond it. Lucius held aspirations of one day rising to the rank of Minister for Magic, though he’d kept this from even his parents. His mother, he knew, would support him. She’d told him many times that he was destined for great things and that she had no doubt that he would allow nothing to stop him from achieving them. His father, however, would’ve shrugged and asked him, “ _And what have you done to prepare for something like that? What have you done to prove yourself worthy?_ ”

            Perhaps Abraxas only pushed his son because he believed Lucius was capable of handling it. That was what Lucius chose to believe, especially when he’d been pushed into joining the Dark Lord at an earlier age than several of his peers and had found himself sparring and dueling with them as well as their much-more-experienced parents on the Dark Lord’s command in the name of training.

            Lucius pushed these thoughts from his mind. He had no proof that Dumbledore ever used Legilimency against his students, but he had suspicions, and if those turned out to be valid, Lucius had no desire to incriminate himself or his family. He could, however, use his family as the excuse he needed to give the Headmaster for his sudden need to leave Hogwarts.

            “Peppermint toads,” he muttered at the foot of the griffin statue outside Dumbledore’s office, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the password he’d been given prior to his return to the school this term. He’d been entrusted with it for use in emergencies or when other professors could not adequately help him to resolve student disputes, and he hated the idea of wasting his first unaccompanied trip to the Headmaster’s Office on a lie—a lie that had nothing to do with furthering the ambitions that had led him to strive for the job of Head Boy, nonetheless.

            Lucius ascended the steps that appeared as the statue turned, and within moments, he stood across the threshold from the office where the Headmaster sat poring over a rather old-looking piece of parchment, his door open as though he were expecting company.

            Lucius cleared his throat. “Professor Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore looked up from the parchment he’d been examining, smiling welcomingly as he watched Lucius over the rims of his half-moon spectacles.

            “Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Good morning. Have you enjoyed your first week of term?”

            Lucius nodded, slipping on a smile and clasping his hands in front of him as he watched Dumbledore carefully. He kept his thoughts as focused on the present moment and clear of his true intentions as possible. He could not afford to leave his mind more vulnerable than necessary.

            “It’s certainly been eventful, Headmaster.”

            Dumbledore chuckled. “I’ve noticed. Professor Slughorn has told me often how proud he is of the progress you’ve made as Head Boy already, and I must agree. I find myself highly impressed.”

            “Thank you, Sir. Have you spoken with Professor Slughorn yet, this morning?”

            “I have not. Should I anticipate him dropping in?”

            Lucius sighed. “Yes, Sir. Narcissa and I had to diffuse a situation at breakfast, and I’m afraid it turned rather ugly.”

            Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “I won’t force you to relive it, then. I’m certain Professor Slughorn will explain in full. How is Miss Black? I haven’t had the chance to speak with her since you students returned.”

            “She’s… well enough.” Lucius shifted his weight to his other foot, wondering whether Dumbledore was simply making small-talk or whether he knew that Narcissa had reason to be something other than well. Dumbledore, it seemed, always knew more than he should. Lucius found it incredibly unsettling. The agony that had begun in his arm had now begun to spread through his chest, and he forced himself not to allow his breathing to become labored. _Remain. Calm. Don’t show him anything._

            “Please give her my regards. But what brings you here, Lucius? I don’t suppose you stopped by just to say hello.”

            “No, Sir.” Lucius inhaled deeply, willing himself to be convincing. “I received word that my mother has taken ill. I know what I’m planning to ask you is against regulations, and as such, I understand completely if you’re obligated to deny my request. I also know that my duties as Head Boy require my presence here at Hogwarts. But given the circumstances, I wondered if I might be permitted to visit home—for no longer than a day, I mean—and then return. As I said, if it isn’t possible, I under—”

            Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, his gaze fixed on Lucius appraisingly. For a terrifying moment, Lucius believed the Headmaster saw completely through him. Prison bars flashed through his mind, as this ancient man surely knew not only the true reason Lucius needed to leave the school but the full extent of the crimes he’d committed.

            “Your duties do require your presence here, yes, but in this case, I believe we can make an exception.”

            Lucius stared at Dumbledore, frozen. “Sir?” he asked. Surely he had heard incorrectly. He’d already resolved himself so completely to having to find another method of escape that asking Dumbledore for permission to leave had been more of a formality than a plan with a legitimate hope for success.

            “You may go. You’ve earned the right to a certain amount of trust from me, Mr. Malfoy,” said Dumbledore. Even in his state of heightened stress and confusion, Lucius couldn’t deny that the Headmaster’s tone was pleasant. He also couldn’t deny that this observation infuriated him. Why was Dumbledore so at ease while Lucius felt increasingly as though he were being stabbed and had started to become lightheaded? “I only ask,” Dumbledore went on, reaching up to tap the rim of his spectacles with his finger and lower them a centimeter, watching Lucius more closely, “that you do not squander it.”

            Lucius stood perfectly still, watching the other man in silence as he considered the warning. So he’d been correct. Dumbledore did know something more than he was letting on, but what, exactly, did he know? He didn’t appear willing to volunteer that information, and Lucius couldn’t ask without putting himself in further jeopardy and risking the exposure of himself, his father, and his friends.

            “Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.”

            Dumbledore smiled and nodded politely. “Certainly not. You’re free to go. Please give your mother my best wishes.”

            “Thank you, Headmaster.” Lucius bowed and turned away, but Dumbledore’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

            “You may of course use my fireplace, should you wish to do so.”

            Lucius closed his eyes momentarily and let out a quiet sigh. _Of course, so that you can be certain I’m going exactly where I told you._ He turned to face Dumbledore once more.

            “Thank you, Sir.”

            Feeling the elder wizard’s gaze on him as he moved, Lucius made his way to the fireplace. He reached into the small, ornate bowl on the ledge and removed a pinch of Floo Powder. He cast the powder in to the flames and watched as their red and orange dissolved and gave way to green in their place.  

            Lucius stepped into the fireplace, refusing to look at Dumbledore again until absolutely necessary, when he turned around to face forward as he ordered “Malfoy Manor.” He kept all traces of discomfort from his face as he met the Headmaster’s eyes, and an instant later, he was being pulled through space and flame as the office disappeared from view.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa runs into a group of young Gryffindors... and Alecto.

Narcissa followed the passage Lucius had shown her back into the castle when she returned. She’d briefly considered returning to the Great Hall to finish breakfast, but it was now so late in the morning that everyone she knew had likely already gone, and the prospect of eating alone in a room full of people in groups wasn’t one that thrilled her.

            As she emerged into the dungeons and started down the corridor, her attention was drawn by a set of shifting shadows accompanied by low whispers, and she started toward the row of columns from which the sounds had come, one hand moving for her wand.

            “Hello?” she asked, her voice echoing down the stone corridor.

            The whispers doubled in volume and then ceased altogether with a loud “ _Shh_ ,” and Narcissa raised a brow.

            “Who’s back there?”

            Silence.

            Narcissa sighed, muttering “ _Lumos_ ” to give herself a small amount of light before leaning around the nearest column and catching the arm of the person behind it.

            “Hey! That’s not necessary!”

            “Mhm. Come on.”

            She gave the arm a gentle pull and led its owner out into the brighter light of the lamps lining the corridor. Her eyes widened as she recognized the boy, and she let out a sigh.

            “Sirius, what in Merlin’s name are you doing down here?”

            The boy shrugged, doing what Narcissa judged a very poor job of hiding his grin. Her cousin had been placed in Gryffindor, unlike the rest of their family, and though he was now in his second year of schooling, Narcissa had seen very little of him while at Hogwarts. The difference in their ages removed any chance of the two of them sharing classes, and apart from the occasional conversation in a passing period, she had little to remind her that they attended the same school.

            “A shrug isn’t an answer,” she said, exasperated at his unwillingness to cooperate. She released her hold on his arm and returned her wand to her pocket.

            “All right, all right.” Sirius sighed, glancing toward the columns and beckoning the other unseen whisperers forward. Three more boys emerged, none of them meeting her eyes as they shuffled out from behind the pillars. “We wanted to see if we could get into the Slytherin Common Room,” Sirius admitted.

            Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do than sneak about? How’re your lessons going?”

            “Narcissa,” Sirius groaned, “don’t be so boring.”

            “Where’d you come from, anyway?” This question came from the bespectacled boy with dark, messy hair who stood a few paces to the left of Sirius. He was looking at Narcissa, now, though the other two were still staring pointedly at the floor and ceiling as though avoiding her gaze would keep them out of trouble. “It looked like you walked straight out of the wall.”

            “I… don’t worry about it,” she said, fairly certain that encouraging second-years to look for a secret passage she’d only just found out about was a terrible idea. “You lot should probably get upstairs before you run into someone who’s less fun than I am. And I am _not_ boring, Sirius.” She reached out to pinch his cheek, smirking when he swatted her hand away.

            “You’re a pain in the arse,” he muttered.

            “I’m a Prefect, so hush and don’t make me regret letting you go without embarrassing you in a grander way.”

            Sirius sighed irritably and turned away, hurrying down the corridor with his friends in tow. Narcissa laughed quietly as she watched them go. _They’re lucky I’m the one who found them,_ she thought. _I can list at least ten people who would’ve been very unpleasant toward a group of nosy second-years trying to get into the wrong area._

            The boys disappeared from view, and someone else entered the corridor, but Narcissa turned and started toward the Common Room without attempting to determine who it was, more in the mood for time alone to think about the last several days than prepared to talk with anyone.

“Talking to a bunch of Gryffindors… and such young ones, no less. What in the world are you doing with your life, Black?”

            Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. _So much for getting to be alone._

She paused and looked back toward the approaching Alecto Carrow, who wore a smirk. Narcissa supposed the other girl’s dark lipstick was intended to make her look bold, but it only had the effect of making Alecto seem like someone very young attempting to pass herself as older and more mature, in Narcissa’s opinion.

            “Not getting points taken from our House for my stupidity, I can tell you that much. I’m surprised they’re letting you walk about unsupervised.”

            Alecto laughed flatly. “They let me have a head start,” she said, pausing in front of Narcissa and folding her arms as she glared. “I had a nice chat with Slughorn and Dumbledore, and now they’ve decided to send McGonagall to come inspect my room for anything else that they might take into account when deciding exactly how to punish me.”

            “How nice of them to let you go on ahead,” said Narcissa, raising a brow. “If you’ll excuse me.” She started to turn away, but Alecto caught her arm. Narcissa’s entire body tensed.

            “You just had to tell them I tried to hex you,” Alecto snarled, her mouth twisting unpleasantly. “Had to get in that last comment while you were already ahead.”

            “Ahead?” Narcissa repeated, wrenching her arm out of Alecto’s grip. “This isn’t a competition, Alecto. You brought this on yourself.”

            “And you conveniently left out the part about you and Malfoy coming at me with your own wands!”

            “ _To stop you from attacking Nickolas,_ ” said Narcissa, emphasizing each syllable. Really, how unreasonable could one person be? Didn’t Alecto realize that it was Narcissa’s job—and Lucius’s, to an even greater degree—to maintain order within the student population?

            “You need to keep your nose out of matters that don’t concern you.” Alecto took a step closer. Narcissa glanced to the other girl’s hands, anticipating a move for her wand, but Alecto made no such move. Narcissa felt a stab of triumph as she realized Professor Slughorn probably hadn’t returned the wand after she herself had confiscated it. Alecto knew her way around a curse, but without wands, neither she nor Narcissa looked incredibly intimidating.

            Looks, Narcissa knew, tended to deceive.

            “I know you saw me with Malfoy earlier,” Alecto pressed on, the set of her mouth suggesting pride in what had transpired. “I saw you starting to come up the steps. I got closer for your benefit, you know.”

            Narcissa forced in a deep breath, ordering herself to remain calm. She knew Alecto was trying to draw a strong reaction from her, and she would not give in that easily.

            “I’d imagine you know what we are, Lucius and I. After all, your sister’s—”

            “I’m going to stop you right there.” Narcissa kept her tone firm but even, and as she spoke, her expression was amused. She didn’t plan to let Alecto know that the attempt to agitate her had worked, and years of practice in the Black household had made her excellent at only demonstrating the emotions she wanted to show, when she focused. “There is,” she went on, “no ‘Lucius and you.’ You may work together, but that’s _it_. I’m fairly certain he thinks even less of you than I do, and I know for a fact that you’re just taking out your frustration because you lost your ability to control Nickolas. Get a grip, Alecto.”

            Narcissa turned on her heel and started down the corridor toward the stairs, in the direction Sirius and the others had disappeared.

            She’d made it only a few steps when the shifting of a shadow along the wall arrested her attention, and she reacted on reflex, lunging to the side and narrowly missing the punch Alecto had aimed at her back. Narcissa faced her attacker as Alecto attempted to steady herself from the miss, into which she’d thrown the majority of her weight, and for just a moment, Narcissa self-control snapped. She drew back her hand and slapped Alecto hard across the face, turning away before she the other girl had time to react and walking quickly in the direction of the staircase once more.

The sound of footsteps pursued her, but before they could reach her, Professor McGonagall came into view at the end of the corridor. An instant later, the sound of the footsteps ceased.

            _I’ve never been so glad to see the woman in my life,_ thought Narcissa, allowing the tension filling her to relax slightly. She inclined her head to McGonagall as she passed and started up the steps, trying hard not to think of how terrible of a decision she’d just made by provoking Alecto further.

            _When Lucius gets back, I should probably not mention this._


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius returns home and receives unsettling news.

“Well, I must say, I’m rather impressed.”

            Lucius froze, his body going cold as his focus landed on the man seated across from his father in Malfoy Manor’s lounge. The Dark Lord was always an imposing figure, but he was particularly intimidating when one hadn’t been expecting to see him. Lucius had planned to Apparate to the Dark Lord after leaving the Manor’s shield, but he now knew that was unnecessary.

            Lucius glanced downward and dusted the soot from the front of his robes, taking a moment to collect himself and determine exactly how to respond to the situation at hand. The Dark Mark had ceased to burn, thankfully, but now here he stood, before both the Dark Lord and Abraxas. Lucius wondered whether either of them would care to ask how he’d managed to leave school in order to return home, and if they did, what they would think of the fact that he’d lied to Dumbledore or that he’d bothered asking for permission to leave in the first place.

            “My Lord.” Lucius took a few steps forward and bowed deeply. As he stood to his full height once again, the Dark Lord drew his wand, and Lucius tensed on instinct. When the Dark Lord flicked his wrist, however, Lucius felt only a short, cool gust form behind him, and he glanced backward to find that the fire had gone out. The Dark Lord nodded to him slowly and then looked to Abraxas.

            “That was much quicker than I’d expected, given security at the school.”

            “He is loyal to you, My Lord,” said Abraxas, inclining his head to the other man. “Whatever you require, my son will find a way to ensure that it happens.”   

            “I will remember that, Abraxas, and I will hold you both to it.”

            The Dark Lord stood, his cold gaze drifting over Lucius once more before shifting to the door. Without another word, he left the room.

            Lucius stared after him unblinkingly for several moments. He didn’t begin to understand what had just transpired, and he couldn’t find the words to demand an explanation of his father.

            _Was this all a joke? Why did he summon me if he was just going to leave?_

Abraxas rose from his chair, his movements rather stiff, and took a step toward his son. Evidently, the questions Lucius wanted to ask were etched into his expression, as his father began to speak without verbal prompting.

            “He’s testing you.” Abraxas’s voice was tight and carefully controlled. He was concealing something—holding something back.

            “Why?” Lucius pressed. “Why would he do that? There are at least a dozen others still at the school, not risking their necks by lying to Dumbledore to sneak away. Why does he want to test me and not them?”

            Abraxas sighed heavily. He strode to the bar and poured himself a glass of rum, lifting it to his mouth and taking a long drink before returning his focus to his son. “Sit down, Lucius.”

            The younger Malfoy nearly protested that he’d rather stand, but as he took in how exhausted his father appeared to be, he found his own desire to argue diminished. Lucius sat on the edge of the chair the Dark Lord had vacated. The other man’s presence still lingered over the room, and Lucius didn’t feel that getting too comfortable was wise, particularly when his father appeared to be worried about something. He watched as Abraxas moved closer again, the elder man’s steps slow and measured, and Lucius couldn’t shake the notion that his father looked considerably older than he had the last time they’d seen one another, though that had only been a week previously. As Abraxas settled into his chair once again, Lucius caught sight of a small, red blemish on the hand with which his father held the glass of rum, and he frowned.

            “Father, are you…?” Lucius trailed off, uncertain of how to finish the thought. _Feeling well?_ The stiffness of Abraxas’s motions suggested the answer to that question. _All right?_ He certainly wasn’t. But Lucius couldn’t begin to guess at something more specific in order to ask it.

            Abraxas watched his son expectantly, evidently awaiting some continuation of his question. When none came, Abraxas followed Lucius’s gaze to the hand clutching the glass, and he rolled his shoulders backward as he inhaled deeply.

            “I wasn’t expecting the Dark Lord to come calling, you see,” said Abraxas. He glanced at the fireplace, dormant at the moment though it was, and then back to his son. “I didn’t have the time to use any sort of glamour to conceal the evidence, this time. If I’d known he was going to summon you, I would’ve…” Abraxas shook his head, and as he moved, Lucius spotted another red blemish on the side of his father’s neck. “He’s testing you,” Abraxas went on after a brief pause, “because he wants to be certain that you’re ready to take my place. He’s not overly concerned with how ready your friends are to be considered full-fledged Death Eaters. They won’t have to worry about that for a while, now. You… Well, you just may.”

            A frown slid onto Lucius’s face as he listened and attempted to understand what his father meant. Before he could question anything, Abraxas continued.

            “It’s probably my fault. I’m always bragging about how much you’ve learned—really, though, you know the others your age! You know most of them are rubbish at the Unforgivables, and I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen someone else cast an Imperius Curse as well as you can while still in school. I probably drew too much attention to you, not that you can’t handle it. But he’s going to want someone to take my place, and I’ve raised you to take charge, haven’t I? You would’ve had to sooner or later, but—”

            “Father,” Lucius cut in, his tone harder than he’d intended. He had suspicions as to where Abraxas was going with his explanation, but he wanted to deny them. “What are you talking about? Why does someone need to take your place?”

            Abraxas held his son’s gaze for a long moment, and Lucius knew. Without his father needing to put it into words, he knew. He saw the sadness in the elder man’s expression and the resignation, as though Abraxas had already accepted some devastating truth long ago and had been holding it back. This was, Lucius thought, probably the case. Abraxas had always been skilled at keeping secrets, and Lucius couldn’t help feeling betrayed by this one.

            “I contracted Dragon Pox several months ago,” said Abraxas. His tone was level, though the glass in his hand trembled slightly. He must’ve noticed this, as he rested it against the arm of his chair and pressed on in his explanation with renewed force, as though out of spite for the illness. “We don’t have a cure for it. For now, I can still do my duty, and I will. When you go back to school, I don’t want you worried about whether I’m still able to fight or whether this disease is going to compromise me and lead me to some sort of slip-up that will end in disaster. That’s not going to happen. Not yet. I don’t know exactly how long this condition will take to remove me completely from the action, but right now, I have quite a bit of fight left in me. When the time does come, however, that I can’t be out on the front lines, I want you to pick up where I’ve left off and bring honor to the Malfoy name. I can trust you to do that, can’t I?”

            Lucius didn’t bother trying to explain how wrong he thought it was for Abraxas to have kept this from him for so long. When the elder Malfoy made up his mind on how to handle a situation, that was the end of the matter. Any attempt to contradict or disparage his decisions had always been met with fierce argument and a healthy dose of venom, and Lucius saw no point in starting an argument. It would solve nothing. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by how calmly Abraxas spoke of his own imminent decline. It was, Lucius thought, just like his father to use something so horrible for a lesson and to seem more disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to fight forever than upset by the prospect of death.

            Lucius nodded stiffly. “Of course you can.” He was determined not to react to the news, at least not while he remained here. Abraxas was the image of composure, despite his illness, and Lucius would not prove himself otherwise when he had just been tasked with upholding his family’s honor.

            Abraxas inclined his head to his son, raising his glass in Lucius’s direction and taking another drink. “You should probably get back to school before someone starts getting suspicious.”

            Again, Lucius nodded. He rose from his chair, feeling as though he should say something but having absolutely no idea where to even begin. In silence, he made his way back to the fireplace, reaching for the Floo Powder that would return him to Hogwarts. He would aim for the Slytherin Common Room instead of the Headmaster’s Office. The prospect of facing Dumbledore again was an incredibly unappealing one, and Lucius doubted he was in the proper mental state to appropriately guard his thoughts, after everything he had just heard and was attempting to process.

            He raised his wand and ignited the flames before casting a glance back at his father, who was watching him over the rim of the nearly-empty glass.

            “Be careful,” said Lucius.

            Abraxas had said that he wasn’t yet at risk of being compromised by his disease while in the field, but even if this was untrue, Lucius doubted his father would admit it.

            Abraxas threw back the rest of his drink and then returned his focus to his son, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “There’ll be plenty of time for that when I’m dead.”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa find an unhappy Lucius in the Common Room.

Narcissa wandered around the corridors of the first floor for half an hour or so, working to occupy herself until she believed Alecto would be finished with what she’d been doing and, hopefully, gone from the dungeons. It probably hadn’t been the best idea to strike someone who had a reputation among her housemates for being particularly vicious, but Narcissa could take care of herself, if Alecto attempted to fight back. She hoped.

            Eventually, she recalled that several of her professors had taken advantage of the first week of lessons and had already given out assignments. With a sigh, Narcissa returned to the stairs and the dungeons, and she made her way to the Common Room. A group of young Slytherins was standing clustered around a pair playing Wizard’s Chess, and several people were spread throughout the room working on assignments or chatting. Narcissa had almost reached the other side of the room on her way to her dormitory when she recognized the figure sitting alone in a chair beside the wall.

            _He’s back already? That doesn’t seem like a good sign_ , she thought. Frowning, she abandoned her course and started toward Lucius, who was starting at the wall on the opposite side of the room as though it had offended him on a deeply personal level. He appeared not to notice when she paused at his side, and she reached out to rest a hand on his arm. At the touch, he blinked, looking in her direction at last, and his expression softened.

            “Have you been there for long?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit... distracted.”

            Narcissa shook her head. “What’s wrong? Weren’t you called away?”

            Lucius shrugged noncommittally and glanced at the other students filling the Common Room. “It’s complicated.”

            Narcissa nodded understanding and grabbed his hand gently. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

            Lucius hesitated, and as Narcissa watched his face, she believed she detected something that looked like pain hiding behind the mask of indifference he’d put on upon taking notice of the other students. After a moment, he stood, and she led him from the Common Room and through the dungeon corridors to her dormitory. She let out a sigh as she surveyed the room, grateful that the other girls were gone. She supposed they were out enjoying their Saturday—she knew them well enough to doubt that anyone except perhaps Johanna would even consider focusing on schoolwork—and while Narcissa would’ve like to return to the castle’s grounds, it would’ve only been to continue sitting beside the lake with Lucius, so she saw no reason to be anywhere but here. She sat down at the edge of her bed and patted the space beside her. He glanced to the spot and then back to her face, and after a brief pause, he sat.

            The room was silent for several seconds. Narcissa knew Lucius well enough to see that something had gone very wrong. He was rarely quiet without reason, and his mind still seemed to be elsewhere. She decided to skip asking whether something was bothering him, as that was abundantly clear.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked instead. “You don’t have to, but if it would help, I’ll listen. I know you can’t say much about what you were called away for, but whatever you can tell me to get something off your chest, I mean.”

            He stared out across the room for a moment longer and then turned to face her. His expression was still guarded, but she could see the sadness in his eyes.

            “As it turns out,” Lucius began, “it wasn’t a mission he wanted me for or anything like that.”

            Narcissa frowned. “Then what was it?”

            “A test.”

            She let out a short, humorless laugh. “A test?” she repeated. “What, to see if you’d find a way to get to him?”

            “Essentially.” Lucius sighed. “To see if I was loyal enough to impress him, which I suppose I managed to do, so that’s… something, at least.”

            “It is. Though I’d imagine that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

            Lucius shook his head, looking away once again. He directed his focus to the pair of shoes lying on the floor between Narcissa’s bed and her desk.

            “He wanted to test my loyalty because, apparently, I’m going to have to step up within our ranks in the near future.”

            “What do you mean?” asked Narcissa, squeezing his hand. She wished he would look at her, but she understood that doing so appeared to be difficult while he sorted through his thoughts and determined how to phrase what he’d experienced. “How can he expect you to do more, while you’re at school?”

            “I don’t know, Narcissa,” said Lucius flatly. “I really wish I did. But the reason for all this is that my father is ill, which he decided not to tell me until it became relevant enough for it to be brought to my attention by the Dark Lord trying to groom me to take his place.”

            Lucius’s voice grew steadily angrier as he spoke, and when he’d finished, Narcissa realized how heavy his breathing had become. She stared at him as she tried to process everything that he’d said. Abraxas was ill, and Narcissa couldn’t imagine someone worse to be involved in the bearing of bad news than the Dark Lord, who presumably didn’t care for the Malfoy patriarch’s well-being but only for the void that would be left in the ranks of the Death Eaters if something were to happen to him. The fact that Lucius had been called away to receive this news could only have added to his stress; Narcissa wasn’t certain where he had gone to speak with the Dark Lord or how he’d traveled there, and at the moment, she didn’t believe it wise to ask. Instead, she held more tightly to his hand, which was cold within her own, and watched him with an unconcealed blend of sympathy and worry.

            “I’m so sorry,” she breathed. “Letting you find out that way was completely unfair.”

            “Many things are unfair.” At last, Lucius turned his head to face Narcissa, and she saw that any effort he’d been putting forth to conceal his sadness had been abandoned. “We’ve been here a week and it already seems that the world’s falling apart around us, doesn’t it? My father, the Dark Lord pulling me away just because he can, the fact that according to your parents, you’re still technically supposed to marry Rowle…”

            “I haven’t told them, yet, but I will,” said Narcissa. “They can complain all they want about my refusal to listen to them, but they can’t complain about you. I know they arranged my betrothal to Thorfinn as the latest way to try to control me, but the reason they claimed is that they don’t want me disgracing the family. There’s no way they can claim that I would be, by being with you.”

            “I don’t know about that,” Lucius muttered. Narcissa frowned and opened her mouth to argue the point, but he continued speaking before she could form the words. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I’d wanted today to be peaceful and look where I got us.”

            She raised a brow. “Where, my room? Stop that.” Narcissa leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Lucius and resting her head against his chest as his arms wound around her. “Stop blaming yourself. You didn’t choose any of this, and I want you to remember that I know that.”

            She felt him sigh and then felt the brush of his fingers in her hair. “You’re too good to me,” he said.

            “No, I’m not.” Narcissa closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the peace and comfort of Lucius’s embrace. Three more words burned on the tip of her tongue, and she considered holding them back. She didn’t know whether it was time to say them; she’d never been in a relationship she’d actually wanted to be in prior to him, and neither of her sisters was the best example to follow, in this instance. But given the fact that she knew beyond doubt that the man beside her was her soulmate, Narcissa felt no shame in letting the words out into the air, and she only hoped that he would handle them well. “I love you,” she said quietly.

            His hand froze in her hair, and she opened her eyes, staring at the next bed over in the silence that followed.

            “I love you, too.”

            She closed her eyes once again with a soft smile as the movement of his hand resumed, and her arms tightened around him. Perhaps he was right and the world was falling apart around them, but, Narcissa thought, at least neither of them would have to go through it alone.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius spends time with Narcissa and then encounters a problem in Potions class.

“When did you write to them, again?”

            “It’s been three days.” Narcissa sighed, shaking her head. “If I had to guess, they’re punishing me. Trying to make me worry by refusing to answer, you know.”

            Lucius frowned, looking out over the lake. He knew she was probably right, which was completely infuriating. The fact that her parents knew her well enough to anticipate her worry and had decided to use it against her bothered him deeply. Almost three weeks had passed since he and Narcissa had admitted their feelings for one another, and apart from a snide remark from a classmate now and then, things had been relatively quiet. Narcissa had been attempting to work out the best way to explain to her parents that she’d gone against their wishes and had begun seeing someone who wasn’t Thorfinn Rowle, and Lucius had spent the majority of the time not devoted to his lessons either with her or anticipating another summons from the Dark Lord that had yet to arrive. It was, he believed, only a matter of time before he was called away again. Though he was still agitated about being summoned only for the purposes of a test, Lucius told himself that he wouldn’t mind something similar happening a second time as long as the next time he was called away, it wasn’t due to the death of his father.

            Lucius knew that Narcissa understood what he was going through, or at least that she was trying to do so and support him in any way she could, which he appreciated more than he knew how to tell her. Instead of using words, he’d taken to demonstrating his gratitude. Today, he’d awaited her after her last lesson of the morning to lead her out onto the grounds. As their first attempt at sitting by the lake had been thwarted by the burning of the Dark Mark, Lucius hoped this one—for which they’d traded the opportunity to eat with the rest of their House—would be more successful.

            “Well,” he said, returning his focus to Narcissa, “they’re being absurd. I still can’t believe they tried to force that on you.”

            “Can’t you?” Narcissa leaned back, supporting herself with her elbows and frowning as she started at the water in front of where they sat on a blanket Lucius had brought with him.

            “Only because I know them,” he said. “I mean it more as a general figure of speech. I can’t believe any parent would—”

            “Lucius, please. Let’s talk about something else.”

            He considered for a moment. His first instinct was to mention Quidditch, but he was certain she was probably tired of hearing about it, considering there was no new information, with the season not having officially started. Lucius found that the amount of lighthearted topics he had to discuss was steadily dwindling, though this observation was unwelcome.  

            “Have you spoken with Andi lately?” he asked after a moment.

            Narcissa looked at him, then. He knew she’d probably expected something dreadful to come of the evening they’d spent at The Three Broomsticks with her sister and Ted, and after that night had ended, he supposed she’d expected him never to mention it or either of the others again. Lucius had gone into that meeting expecting to hate Ted, and he did, if only because the man was infuriatingly polite and had made an attempt to change everything Lucius believed about how a Mudblood should behave. Still, he inquired for the sake of Narcissa’s well-being and not that of the others.

            “She’s expecting.”

            Lucius’s eyes widened. “ _What?_ ”

            Narcissa nodded. “It’s not like I didn’t anticipate it, but it’s… so soon.”

            Lucius frowned. The idea of a member of the Black family having a child with a Mudblood was appalling, but he didn’t plan to say this aloud. He needed a way to divert the topic before he could say something to accidentally offend Narcissa. He allowed a moment to pass in silence, and then he leaned close and kissed her cheek.

            “All right,” he said quietly. “Apart from all the lunacy going on with your family, how are you?”

            Narcissa shrugged, giving him a half-smile in response to the kiss. Lucius observed the dark circles under her blue eyes, and he wondered whether she’d been having trouble sleeping.

            “I’m fine,” she said. He knew it was a lie, but she didn’t give him time to press her. “We should probably go back before it gets much later. I don’t want to make you late to class.”

            Lucius hesitated for a moment, by no means eager to leave Narcissa’s company for that of his Potions class, but he knew she was right. He stood and helped her to her feet before producing his wand and muttering a spell to transport the blanket and the remnants of the food they’d brought outside back to his dormitory. He then lifted his schoolbag onto his shoulder and took Narcissa’s hand, starting back toward the castle.

* * *

 

            Lucius had finished preparing his potion according to Slughorn’s specifications when Walden began kicking him in the shin beneath the table in a steady rhythm. For the first several moments, Lucius stared pointedly forward, determined to ignore his friend’s blatant attempt to bother him, but when the kicking persisted with no sign of an end, Lucius gave in, sighing irritably.

            “What?” he demanded, turning toward Walden with exasperation plain on his features.

            “Are you planning to avoid the rest of us all the time, now that you and Narcissa are… well, sneaking off to do whatever you’re doing?”

            Lucius rolled his eyes. “We’re not ‘sneaking off.’ We would’ve told you where we were going, if you’d asked. It’s not like it’s a secret. And no, Walden, we’re not avoiding you. It’s just not exactly easy to talk with you lot making jokes, if you can imagine.”

            “Us? Making jokes?” asked Augustus from Walden’s other side, laying a hand over his heart indignantly and then rolling his eyes. “As if we’d do such a thing.”

            “I’m going to throw something at you.” Lucius glanced at the spare ingredients lying out on his desk and contemplated for a moment which ones Professor Slughorn would miss the least before continuing to speak. “The point is, no, we aren’t avoiding anyone.”

            “Then let’s do something as a group,” said Walden with a shrug.

            “And what do you suggest?” asked Lucius, more to humor him than out of genuine curiosity. He knew from experience that any plan of Walden Macnair’s was likely to end in disaster.

            “I’ll think of something.”

            “And then I’ll think of something less idiotic,” put in Augustus.

            “Up for debate,” said Lucius, turning back to his potion. As he looked into the cauldron, he froze. The liquid within had begun to roil while his focus had been elsewhere, and it had turned to a deep brown as it bubbled upward, quickly approaching the cauldron’s edge. He reached for his wand, struggling to formulate a spell that might do something to aid him, but he could think of nothing with even a remote chance of working. The potion had been perfectly fine before he’d looked away. _What the hell happened?_ he thought, fuming. He couldn’t begin to undo the damage if he had no idea what had gone wrong.

            He glanced down the row of desks just in time to see the retreating figure of Thorfinn Rowle slipping back into his own seat.

            “I’m going to kill him,” Lucius muttered.

            A moment later, the potion spilled over the edge of the cauldron, running like a thick, dark fountain onto the stone floor of the classroom. Several people jumped back from the mess as it fanned out across the area surrounding Lucius’s desk, and at the sound of a series of gasps, Slughorn looked in the direction of the disturbance.

            “What—what in Merlin’s name—Malfoy! What’s going on there?” he asked, hurrying over to the desk. “What did you add?”

            “No idea, Professor,” said Lucius through gritted teeth. “My hand must’ve slipped.” He stepped back from the cauldron, trying to keep the potion from touching his shoes, as the desk legs it had run into had begun to sizzle.

            Slughorn frowned. “That’s not like you. Anyway, class is dismissed while I sort this out. Do try not to step in it, children.”

            The instant they had been dismissed, Lucius headed down the row to where he’d last seen Rowle. Thorfinn, however, had been seated near the door and had already escaped through it by the time Lucius reached the proper desk. Lucius left the classroom without a word to anyone and started down the corridor, glaring harshly at the path in front of him.

            He believed he caught a glimpse of a flash of dark hair disappearing behind a statue, but the person to whom it belonged had appeared too short to be the one he wanted to hex, and the hair had seemed much too long, so Lucius paid the movement no mind.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa receives a letter from her mother and a mysterious gift.

Narcissa was thoroughly unprepared to open the letter her mother’s owl had dropped beside her breakfast plate before flying off with an indignant hoot. She’d excused herself from the table and from her friends and made her way back to her dormitory. Now, she dropped heavily onto her bed and stared at the envelope in her hands, which had been formally sealed with the Black family crest. _She never does anything halfway, does she?_

            Resigning herself to the inevitable, Narcissa opened the envelope and began to read from the parchment within.

* * *

 

_I cannot express my disappointment in your inability to perform the duties your father and I assigned to you. You are incredibly fortunate that your father was able to dissuade Thomas Rowle from being angry with our family at large for this debacle._

_You are also fortunate that the Malfoy family is one of excellent standing. Therefore, we will permit you to see Lucius. However, if you manage to ruin a second opportunity to marry into a bloodline with prestige, your choices will become very limited._

* * *

 

“Oh, you’ll _permit_ it, will you?” Narcissa muttered, tearing the parchment in two and dropping it into the bin beside her bed. “How kind of you, Mother. I’m touched.”

            Narcissa doubted any of her friends would have understood, if she’d told them exactly how difficult her parents could be on the matters of love and marriage. Cygnus Black had made a point of informing his daughters that he didn’t believe in soulmates. He’d never had a mark appear anywhere on his person to indicate that he’d encountered his, and so he viewed those who had as of a lesser breed than himself or as victims of an unfortunate illness. Narcissa recalled a time in her youth when her sister Bellatrix had claimed to have caught a glimpse of something silver on their mother’s arm, but Narcissa had never seen Druella wear sleeves short enough to allow the youngest Black sister to find out for herself. Narcissa supposed her parents’ complete lack of concern as to whether she ended up with her one true love was due to the fact that neither of them had done so, but she still didn’t believe that excused their behavior.

            She lay back, resting her head on her pillow as she stared upward at her canopy. _Don’t worry about them,_ she ordered herself. _They gave us their blessing, anyway. Or as close as they’re ever going to get to saying something like that. But even if they hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I’ve already made my decision._

            The last few weeks she’d spent with Lucius had been the most enjoyable of her life. While they’d spent quite a bit of time with one another before this term, it had been under incredibly different circumstances. The majority of their time together had been while also in the company of others, as well, and while time in which they’d been alone had been enjoyable, she found now that they were much closer than they’d been previously. She’d already considered him her closest friend, but now, she found it impossible not to smile when he was near and he had a way of making her feel as though she was the only person he cared to see.

            No matter how her parents had reacted, she wouldn’t have allowed them to change her mind. She had no desire to lose the happiness that she had found with Lucius.

            Narcissa turned her head to glance at the clock on her desk, and she froze, a frown creeping onto her lips. A bottle of Butterbeer rested beside the clock, and her name was written on the tag.

            She had no time to ponder this before Lenore strode into the room, her steps brisk and her mouth set in a scowl.

            “What happened?” asked Narcissa, propping herself up on her elbows. Lenore sat down at the edge of Narcissa’s bed and let out a heavy sigh.

            “Don’t you get tired of it?” she demanded.

            “Of…?”

            “The secrecy!”

            “Oh,” said Narcissa, sitting up fully and drawing her feet back to rest beside her. “If we’re talking about what I think we are, then—”

            “Stop talking like them,” said Lenore irritably. “Always so cryptic, never saying what they really mean.”

            “Lenore…” Narcissa reached out to place a hand on her friend’s arm, shaking her head. “You know they can’t take unnecessary risks while we’re at school. Talking about what they’re doing would—”

            “‘Unnecessary risks,’” Lenore repeated flatly. “That’s what it all is! One big unnecessary risk! Why the hell do any of them have to be involved in the war, any—?”

            “Shh!” Narcissa clapped a hand over Lenore’s mouth, her own eyes wide. “Would you please hush? We have no idea who’s nearby!”

            Lenore closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, and after a moment had passed, Narcissa removed her hand from her friend’s mouth.

            “You know I don’t want to get them in trouble,” Lenore said at last. “But from what I could gather before Walden essentially told me to bugger off ‘for my own safety,’ things are getting worse out there, and Walden, Lucius, Augustus, and whoever else is with them may get dragged into it sooner rather than later. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit back and pretend not to be worried sick?”

            Narcissa considered for a long moment. She would be lying if she told Lenore she hadn’t been just as worried. Lucius was frequently preoccupied, and while she knew part of this was due to the deteriorating health of his father, she’d overheard enough of his conversations with the other boys to understand that Lenore was right to be concerned about the war. Narcissa had been wrestling internally with whether she should press Lucius for information or let him handle things, and so far, the first option was the most appealing. She didn’t want to upset him with questions that would certainly broach sensitive subjects, but she also couldn’t stand the idea of letting him suffer and doing nothing to help him. He was reluctant to talk about Abraxas, but once in a while, he let his feelings slip on the matter of the elder Malfoy. The war, however, was a subject he never discussed while alone with her. Still, she gathered from what little she heard when the others around to know that he was bothered by it.

            “No,” she said, shaking her head at Lenore’s questions. “It’s useless to pretend you’re not worried. If I had to guess, he sees it.” After she’d spoken the words, Narcissa realized she wasn’t certain whether she’d meant Walden or Lucius. Before she could contemplate this further, she continued speaking. “All you can do is ask him. I’d advise doing it when the rest of us aren’t around, and if he doesn’t want to discuss it… I don’t know. Hopefully he will when he’s ready. But don’t pick a fight over it. Your relationship is more important than being irritated about the withholding of a little information.”

            Narcissa knew this particular subject was more than just ‘a little information,’ and she knew Lenore was aware of this, as well, but she hoped that trying to pretend the point of argument was as insignificant as any other topic would help them both to be all right with it if Lucius and Walden decided not to discuss things after all.

            Lenore lay back with a heavy sigh, her gaze fixed on the canopy. “I really hate it when you’re right,” she said.

            Narcissa smirked. “So what you really mean to say is you spend your days in a constant state of irritation?”

            “Oh, shut up. Go get that Butterbeer on your desk—I saw it and I know you’ve been holding out on me.”

            Narcissa rolled her eyes. “It’s not mine. Or… well, it’s addressed to me, but I’ve no idea where it came from.”

            Lenore turned her head toward Narcissa, the former’s expression indicating that the latter might be the least intelligent person on the planet.

            “Really?”

            “What?” asked Narcissa, exasperated.

            “If it isn’t from me—which I can assure you it isn’t, sorry; if I had some I wouldn’t give it away—who else would it possibly be from?”

            “First off: you’re unnecessarily difficult. Second: when exactly do you suppose he would’ve had the time to drop it off? In the three seconds between when I left the dormitory and when we met in the Common Room?”

            “Fine. I’ll get it.” Lenore rolled her eyes and sat up, sliding to her feet and grabbing the bottle from the desk. She opened it and sat back on the bed, and a moment after she’d taken her seat, Narcissa reached out and grabbed the bottle from her. Lenore opened her mouth to protest, and Narcissa shook her head.

            “It was addressed to me. I get the first drink.” She stuck out her tongue, and Lenore elbowed her in the side, leading a small amount of the Butterbeer to slosh out onto Narcissa’s skirt. “Hey!”

            “Your fault,” said Lenore with a shrug.

            Narcissa frowned and raised the bottle to her lips and taking a drink.

            She didn’t process until a moment too late that the scent that reached her nose was not that of Butterbeer but an alluring blend of strawberries with cream, the air just beside the Black Lake, and a particular brand of cologne.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius knows something is wrong when Narcissa begins behaving strangely.

“What do you mean ‘flooded’?” asked Lucius, trying hard not to glare at Gabriel Travers, who had pulled him aside in the corridor between classes to rave about something that had transpired in the Prefects’ Bathroom.

            Travers shrugged. “I don’t know how it happened—by the time I walked in, the water was nearly out the door.”

            “And why are you telling me?”

            “Well…” Travers blanched. “I just thought… you’re head B—”

            “Yes, and you’re a Prefect.” Lucius sighed. “Figure it out.”

            Travers huffed and turned away, starting down the hall, and Lucius strode off in the other direction. Lucius currently lacked the patience to deal with the incompetence of others. He had more than enough on his mind without adding the ineptitude of his schoolmates to the list. As though the stress inflicted by the situation with his father was not enough, his professors appeared to have taken it upon themselves to determine exactly how many assignments their students could withstand without ending up in St. Mungo’s.

            _It’s your last year,_ he reminded himself. _Let them assign as much as they want—they still can’t keep me here._

            “Lucius!”

            He looked toward the voice to find Narcissa darting toward him through the groups of students making their way from one class to another. She was pursued by a visibly-agitated Lenore.

            _Why do I have a bad feeling about this?_

“I tried to keep her in the dormitory, but she hexed me. I do care about both of you, but I didn’t sign up for that.”

            Lucius ignored Lenore and focused instead on the rapidly-approaching Narcissa. He recognized the set of her mouth as one she wore when determined to some end or another, but the look in her eyes was foreign—on her, at least; he’d seen others wear it, and as he recognized the emotion behind it, he blanched.

            “Narcissa—”

            As she reached him, she stretched upward and cut him off with a forceful kiss, gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand and resting the other at the back of his head to keep it near hers as she pushed him back against the wall. Lucius was startled, torn between the confusion that told him to pull away and the desire trying to persuade him to embrace the moment. Narcissa’s lips worked hungrily against his, more passion within her kiss than any she’d shown before, and Lucius reached instinctively for her waist to pull her closer, but then his mind caught up with his reflexes, and he internally screamed at himself for allowing this to continue when something was obviously very wrong. This behavior was not at all like Narcissa. The hand that had rested on his shoulder drifted slowly down his chest, and as it began to move closer to his stomach, he reached out to catch her wrist, pulling his mouth back and gasping for air.

            “What in Merlin’s name has gotten into you?”

            Narcissa frowned, leaning close again in an attempt to resume the kiss, but when Lucius turned his head, her lips met his jaw. He felt her frustrated sigh against his skin.

            “Me?” she demanded. “Why are you being this way?”

            His eyes wide with disbelief, Lucius laid his hands on Narcissa’s shoulders and guided her gently backward just far enough that he could be certain she couldn’t reach him to attempt to kiss him again. Normally, he would have never objected to that, but when she was so clearly not herself, he couldn’t allow her to act in ways he knew she would later regret, no matter how strongly he wished she would kiss him that way when she’d returned to her senses.

            “Narcissa,” Lucius said slowly, “what’s happened?”

            “ _Nothing_ has happened,” she insisted, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held fast to her shoulders, not trusting what she might do if she were to rid herself of his hands. “I’ve decided I’m tired of trying hide how much I love you for the sake of propriety. I don’t care if the entire school sees us. In fact—you know, I’ll tell them.” She tilted her head backward to face the ceiling and drew in a large breath. “ _Lucius and I are in l_ —”

            _Oh hell._ He reacted quickly as she started to shout, shifting position to slide behind her and clap a hand over her mouth as he used his other arm to guide her out of the path of the students passing by on the way to their lessons, several of whom were already watching the pair with expressions varying from the perplexed to the amused.

            “ _Explain_ ,” Lucius snarled, glaring at Lenore, who rolled her eyes.

            “Oh, yes, it’s absolutely my fault.”

            “ _Lenore._ ”

            The girl sighed heavily. “Fine. There was a bottle of Butterbeer sitting on her dresser, and, well…”

            Lucius glanced down to Narcissa, who had begun attempting to pry his hand from her mouth, and back to Lenore. “And she drank it?”

            “Well, I… I may have implied that it was from you.”

            “ _Why would you do something like—?”_

“Stop shouting!” Lenore huffed. “I figured it probably was, considering it wasn’t from me and I didn’t imagine Walden or Augustus had anything to do with it, so… anyway, the minute she drank it, she started raving about you and wouldn’t shut up. If I hear one more word about the color of your eyes, I swear I’ll kill something. Near as I can tell, the bottle was dosed with Amortentia. Why the hell someone would want to drug her to go even madder for you is beyond me.”

            “Did you touch the—ow! Would you _stop_ that?” Lucius demanded, exasperated, shifting his arm from around Narcissa to gripping both her wrists to keep her from reaching around to pinch his bottom a second time. “Did you touch the bottle?” he asked Lenore.

            “Yes, why?”

            Lucius closed his eyes momentarily, forcing a deep breath into his lungs and letting it out again. Lenore’s insistence on meddling had, for once, served to benefit the situation.

            “The person who brewed the potion was the last to touch its container before you,” he explained, opening his eyes again, “and she was supposed to be the next. Your magic interfered with the potion. Instead of connecting Narcissa to whoever it was meant to, it intensified the feelings she already had.”

            He’d read of mishaps leading to Amortentia instilling the wrong emotions in people, but this typically happened when someone other than the intended victim consumed it. Instances like this one were rare, Lucius knew, but he found himself incredibly grateful that Lenore had interfered, however inadvertent the action had been.

            “Cissy,” he said, turning her carefully around to face him and removing his hand from her mouth. “I need you to go back to the Common Room.”

            “But—” she began, but he spoke again with a shake of his head.

            “Please don’t argue. I’ll be there shortly. Considering that everyone else should be in class, it’ll be just us.”

            She said nothing for a moment, evidently considering, and then she nodded, leaning up to kiss him briefly but passionately before meeting his eyes with mischief in her own.

            “Fine. Don’t make me wait for too long.”

            With that, she turned on her heel and started off down the corridor. For a moment, Lucius stared at her, and then he turned to Lenore, who was watching him with a raised brow.

            “What are you going to do?” asked Lenore.

            “ _We_ are going to find a way to fix this. We need an antidote or… something. Considering that you’re the one who let her drink the damn potion, you’re going to help me undo it.”

            Lenore nodded stiffly, and Lucius motioned for her to follow as he started in the opposite direction of the class he was supposed to be attending. He tried to keep at bay the rage boiling within him at the person he knew beyond doubt had to be responsible and focus on helping Narcissa.

            There would be time to murder Rowle afterward.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa plans to take advantage of time alone with Lucius in the Common Room. 
> 
> Translation: Amortentia-drugged Narcissa thinks this will happen, while Lucius has other plans.

Narcissa gave a silent prayer of thanks for the emptiness of the Slytherin Common Room as she entered. Her heart pounded obnoxiously, its beating a roar in her ears, and she contemplated the best way to take advantage of the time alone with Lucius when he arrived.

            She had no idea why her inhibitions had suddenly and miraculously been revealed to her as foolish, but she was grateful that they had. After all, it was ridiculous to attempt to contain her feelings when they were so all-consuming and tore so viciously through every fiber of her being. _How in Merlin’s name did I manage to keep what I think of Lucius to myself for so long?_ she demanded of herself, shaking her head as she set her belongings down on a sofa, slipped off her shoes, and started to unfasten the buttons of her shirt. As it seemed to her now, the words _‘I love you’_ would’ve burned a hole through her, if they’d remained hidden any longer.

            “What are you doing?”

            Narcissa froze, her blouse half-unbuttoned and the corset beneath partially revealed. She clasped the sides of the shirt together tightly at her throat and turned to face Alecto Carrow, who stood in the doorway leading from the Common Room to the dormitories.

            “Shouldn’t you be in class?” Narcissa snapped. “Don’t make me write you a—”

            “I would _love_ ,” said Alecto, talking over Narcissa’s unfinished threat, “to see you explain in the detention slip exactly why you were here to find out I wasn’t in class.” Despite the agitation her words suggested, Alecto was barely suppressing a smirk. She glanced down to where Narcissa’s hand held her shirt together and back to the other girl’s face. “So… shall I go and fetch Thorfinn, then?”

            Narcissa stared at Alecto, uncomprehending. “Why in the world would you think that was necessary? Get out of here before—just _go._ ”

            Alecto stepped closer, one dark brow raised as she folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t you want to—?”

            “ _Alecto!_ Why would I want anything to do with Thorfinn?” Narcissa demanded. “Lucius is going to be here any moment!”

            In the ensuing silence, Narcissa’s chest heaved with her frustration and all traces of amusement slowly slid from Alecto’s features. Her lips twisted into a scowl.

            “You couldn’t even drink a bottle of Butterbeer right, could you?” Alecto stepped forward until she stood directly in front of Narcissa, her eyes staring downward into the Prefect’s face with unrestrained contempt. “Let me guess: you let someone else touch it?”

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Narcissa drew herself up, attempting to look more threatening than was possible in her current state of partial-undress. Alecto opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, the portrait at the room’s entrance moved aside and Lucius stepped over the threshold.

            Alecto was immediately as far from Narcissa’s mind as the silly societal restrictions attempting to keep her from acting on the full extent of her desire. Narcissa started toward Lucius, a smirk twisting her lips.

            “I wondered what was keeping you.”

            _Merlin, he’s handsome. Just look at those eyes_ _—I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a perfect color on anyone else._ _I bet the rest of Slytherin is unbelievably jealous, particularly Alecto… That must be why she’s acting so ridiculously._

            “ _Out._ ”

            The thoughts streaming through Narcissa’s mind were interrupted by the harshness of the command, and she processed a moment later that it had been directed at Alecto, who wasted no time in scurrying out of the room and into the corridor outside. Narcissa’s smirk returned when she and Lucius were left alone, and she stepped toward him slowly, relaxing her grip on her blouse and resuming the unbuttoning of the garment as she studied Lucius’s face.

            “I thought she’d never leave,” she said quietly, watching his eyes as they flicked from hers downward and back again quickly to meet her gaze.

            “Narcissa, please don’t,” said Lucius, a hint of hesitation creeping into his otherwise-firm tone. The twist of his lips suggested discomfort, and Narcissa forced herself not to frown.

            _He’s just playing hard to get,_ she told herself. _He wants this as much as I do._

She unfastened the last button on her shirt and shrugged it from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor and leaving her standing before him in her skirt, her stockings, and a black corset that hugged her slim waist and would, she hoped, draw considerable attention to her chest with its low cut.

            Lucius’s eyes followed the shirt to the floor and then moved upward, widening momentarily before he closed them, his jaw clenching. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Narcissa slid closer, resting her hand on his chest and trailing it downward as she stared at him.

            “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she muttered. She leaned close and laid a kiss on his neck, and she jerked back in alarm when his hand closed around her wrist and pulled it away from his body to hold it at arm’s length.

            “There’s a reason you can’t stop.” Lucius’s voice was low and rough, and he shook his head as though trying to pull himself together. He opened his eyes and raised his free hand, which Narcissa realized for the first time held a small flask. “Drink this. Please.”

            “Why do you want—?”

            “Just trust me,” he said quickly, and then he sighed, releasing her hand. “After you drink it, we’ll do whatever you like.”

            Narcissa snatched the flask from his hand and brought it to her lips, downing the contents in one long drink, and returned her focus to Lucius with a smile more devious than she believed she’d ever worn previously.

            “Now that that’s out of the way, we—” Narcissa froze as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She gripped Lucius’s arm for support, closing her eyes and attempting to steady herself as a sensation passed through her that she could only liken to the wind sweeping away a dense fog. For a moment, she wasn’t certain where she was, and she felt the edge of panic beginning to creep over her mind.

Narcissa forced her eyes open despite the overwhelming disorientation and turned her head to either side to survey her surroundings. She stood at the center of the Slytherin Common Room, and her stomach twisted at the chill that swept over her. _I shouldn’t be so cold. That would only make sense if_ _—_

Her eyes widening in horror, she glanced downward, and an involuntary gasp broke from her lips as she realized her shirt had been discarded and lay a few paces away on the floor, leaving her in little more than a skirt and her lingerie.

            “This isn’t happening,” she muttered, folding her arms over her chest and stepping back rapidly to hide behind the nearest sofa.

            “Narcissa, it’s—it’s fine.” Lucius watched her with wide eyes, holding out his hands as though to suggest the absence of a threat, at least from him. Still, she remained behind the sofa, refusing to move closer to him.

            “In _what reality_ is this _fine?_ ” she demanded, her cheeks burning. She would’ve traded absolutely anything to be able to Disapparate and make a home for herself alongside the creatures of the Forbidden Forest. At least they wouldn’t understand her shame.

            “You weren’t in control of your actions,” Lucius said slowly, bending to pick up the shirt Narcissa had apparently shed—everything after sitting beside Lenore in the girls’ dormitory remained an incoherent series of blurry images and the sense that her thoughts had been fixed to an unhealthy degree on Lucius _—_ and held it out to her without attempting to move closer.

            Narcissa grudgingly removed one arm from around herself to reach for the shirt, whipping around to face the wall before pulling it on and fastening each of the buttons. She kept her focus deliberately in the opposite direction of where Lucius stood as she spoke.

            “What happened?” she demanded, pretending to be oblivious to how red her face must’ve become, if the heat surging through her cheeks was any indication.

            “Considering the circumstances and the fact that Alecto was waiting for you, I’d say she and Rowle dosed you with Amortentia. Narcissa, what the hell were you thinking, drinking something that showed up in your room with no warning and no sender listed?”

            “Yes, Lucius, what I need right now is a _lecture_ ,” Narcissa snapped. “I’m sure that will make everything much easier to process.” Though she was severely frustrated that his first reaction was to chastise her, she was much more agitated with herself for what she’d been attempting to do. If the state of her clothing was any indication of the mindset she’d held moments ago, she was glad she couldn’t recall the details more clearly. She couldn’t believe she’d been so forward, so ridiculously improper.

            More than anything else, however, she couldn’t believe the merciless pounding of her heart that suggested she had thoroughly enjoyed that impropriety.

            “Listen to me.” The words were punctuated by the soft touch of a hand on her shoulder, and Narcissa nearly jumped at the sudden touch. Still, she refused to look at him as he went on, her gaze still boring into a rather hideous tapestry on the wall. “I’m sorry—I’m not angry with you. But I am worried, because if you’re going to ingest things without knowing where they’re from, you could be putting yourself in very real danger. If Lenore hadn’t touched the Butterbeer before you did, that potion would’ve made you go after Rowle instead of me, and I can’t—” When he broke off, she glanced toward him in her periphery to see him shaking his head with a scowl. “He and Carrow are both going to pay for this, but I’m just glad things didn’t work out that way. I highly doubt he would’ve refused to take advantage of the situation.”

            Narcissa knew Lucius was right about all of it, and she couldn’t recall a time she’d ever been more embarrassed or flustered in her life. She sighed heavily and turned to face him, her movements rigid.

            “I suppose I just wanted to focus on something other than the insanity, but that’s no excuse. It was a stupid thing to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go lock myself in my dormitory and leave you to find someone with a bit more common sense.”

            Tears stinging her eyes, she turned away, but only for a moment, as he pulled her back gently by the arm to face him again.

            “Enough of that.” He raised a hand to her cheek and leaned down to meet her lips, and when he pulled back, he shook his head. “Just promise not to drink anything without knowing who left it, in the future. I’d really prefer it to be of your own free will, if you start stripping in front of me again.”

            Huffing indignantly, Narcissa reached out to smack him on the arm, though she couldn’t hold onto her frustration for more than a moment as she looked up to find Lucius smiling at her.

            “Noted,” she said, unable to stop herself from returning his smile.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While contemplating how to handle the Rowle situation, Lucius runs into Bellatrix.

The thought of returning to the remainder of his schedule after the day’s events thus far was one Lucius didn’t bother to entertain. Shortly after he’d given Narcissa the antidote, Lenore had joined them in the Common Room, and the three had taken seats and elected to avoid their next lessons.

            “What are we going to do to Rowle and Carrow?” asked Lenore, drumming her fingers against the arm of her chair. “Narcissa and I could easily get into Alecto’s dormitory, but Thorfinn… that might be on you.”

            Lucius hesitated, glancing to where Narcissa sat beside him on the sofa, her gaze fixed on the carpet. While his own first instinct after ensuring her safety had been to strike against those responsible for putting her at risk, she herself had said nothing on the subject of revenge. He’d never seen her as embarrassed as she’d been after the antidote had taken effect. It had been difficult enough for their relationship to progress past the boundaries of friendship and for the two to become comfortable crossing new lines, and he feared the Amortentia situation would serve as a hindrance to further progress. Narcissa had just begun to allow Lucius past the walls she’d constructed after years of familial repression, and if her reaction to the potion was an indication of her broader mindset, she was uncertain how far to allow those walls to fall and viewed her—however involuntary—lapse in control as weakness. Lucius had no idea how to strengthen the trust between the two of them when Narcissa’s trust in herself had apparently been shaken so deeply.

            “We’ll deal with them in time,” he said, letting out a sigh. “Right now, let’s try to focus on the fact that everything is all right. Why don’t we do something fun? Distract ourselves?”

            “We could go somewhere,” suggested Lenore, glancing from Lucius to Narcissa and back. “Get out of here.”

            “No.” Narcissa shook her head, her lips set in a line. “I’d rather just go back to the dormitory, honestly.”

            Lucius frowned. He reached out to grasp her hand and give it a light squeeze. “Cissy, we don’t have to leave. We can stay here with you until you’re… feeling well.”

            “It’s all right.” She returned the squeeze of his hand and met his eyes steadily. “I think I just want to rest for a while.” She leaned close to press a soft kiss to his cheek, and he felt a bit of his tension ease at the touch of her lips. “I’ll come and find you later.”

            Narcissa rose from the sofa and made her way from the room, moving in the direction of the dormitories. When she’d gone, Lucius looked to Lenore, who nodded understanding before he’d had the chance to speak.

            “I’ll stay close and make sure she’s all right.”

            “Thank you.” He glanced once more toward the doorway. “Then I’ll go for a walk. I need to clear my head, if I’m going to avoid doing something I’ll regret where the two idiots are concerned.”

            “No one would exactly blame you,” said Lenore with a shrug.

            “No, but I can’t afford to be sent to Azkaban before I graduate.” _Particularly with my father relying on me to…_ Lucius refused to finish the thought. He couldn’t endure worrying for both Narcissa and his father at once. He stood and started for the corridor, uncertain of where his feet would take him but in desperate need of some form of distraction.

* * *

He found The Three Broomsticks roughly as empty as it had been the last time he’d visited. After Butterbeer failed to improve his mood in the slightest, Lucius ordered a Firewhiskey, which he sipped from a booth near the back of the pub. He didn’t feel that being discovered here in the middle of the day would end well, and he intended to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

            A bolt of pure dread, therefore, passed through him when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

            “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

            He relaxed slightly at the familiar bored drawl of Bellatrix Black. As unpleasant as she often was toward him, he knew she was unlikely to turn him in for being out of place, at the very least.

            “The hell are you doing in Hogsmeade, anyway?” he shot back, watching as she settled into the seat across from him, a drink in her hands.

            “I had the day off,” said Bellatrix with a shrug. “And I wanted a drink. Any run-ins with trainees were unintentional, I assure you.”

            Lucius rolled his eyes. “Trainees? I think you know as well as I that the fact that I have to finish this year is the only reason I’m not out there leading missions instead of you.”

            Bellatrix laughed flatly. “Enjoy your snark while you can, Malfoy. When we’re fighting together, it’ll be incredibly easy to make whatever wounds I give you look like an accident.”

            “Do you plan to do anything other than insult me? I do have better places I could be.”

            “How’s my sister?”

            Lucius stared at the rim of his glass for a long moment as he fought down the urge to lift his gaze to Bellatrix with the full force of the glare he wanted to demonstrate. Despite what he’d witnessed and been told about Andromeda’s efforts to keep in contact with Narcissa, Bellatrix had shown considerably less interest in remaining apprised of what was happening in the youngest Black sister’s life. Lucius knew well how occupied the Dark Lord could keep his protégées, but he couldn’t imagine that Bellatrix’s time had been completely dominated by her tasks for their master to the degree that she couldn’t have attempted to intervene in the madness Narcissa had undergone recently, particularly where the sisters’ parents were concerned.

            “She’s as well as can be expected,” he said flatly, lowering his glass and resting it on the table with a dull thud. He looked up to find Bellatrix watching him closely through narrowed eyes, her lips set in a thin line.

            “I hope you don’t think you’re going to blame me for—”

            “Did I say I blame you?” Lucius snapped, quirking a brow.

“What? What do you think I could’ve done?”

“You seem to have avoided your parents’ pressures to marry so far.  You don’t think you could’ve intervened—persuaded them that Rowle was a damned awful idea? Cygnus doesn’t exactly value anyone’s opinion, but of his daughters, he might’ve listened to you.  You’ve always been the most like him.”  

            Lucius wondered whether Bellatrix would recognize the insult within these words.  One as proud as she might’ve heard only the comparison to the family’s patriarch, the public face of one of the oldest and most respectable Pureblood lines, as Bellatrix would eventually become, as its eldest heir, though she would not prolong the existence of the name.  Lucius, however, equated Cygnus with cold distance.  Druella appeared to have been the driving factor in Narcissa’s forced engagement, but Cygnus had upheld it, and his ire, Lucius knew, had been one of the primary forces entrapping her.  Cygnus concerned himself with his family’s image above all else, except perhaps its duty to the Dark Lord and Pureblood society to remain strong.  Bellatrix’s priorities were clearly reordered but similar—the Dark Lord, family, society.  Lucius knew she cared for her youngest sister, but he doubted Bellatrix had given Narcissa’s predicament a great deal of thought or concern while so consumed by her devotion to the Dark Lord’s work.

            “I couldn’t have convinced him of anything,” Bellatrix said shortly, her jaw tightening.  “And forgive my focus being directed to the cause that _you_ are supposed to be aiding, as well. While you’re in school worrying about your damned patronus—”

            “Are you still waiting? Do you think your mark’s going to appear and make it all worth it?”

            The hardness of Bellatrix’s gaze would’ve served as an effective bludgeon to a mountain troll, but Lucius did not falter under it. He continued.

            “No matter how long you wait, Bella, he’s not your match. He’s not going to wake up one day and realize that he should be just as devoted to you as you are to him. Don’t alienate the people who care for you for the sake of—”

            “You presume too much,” said Bellatrix coldly, “and don’t change the subject.”

            “It’s the same subject. Your priorities need work.”

            “What does it matter, now, anyway? What do you expect me to do? It’s resolved. Narcissa won’t have anything to do with Rowle, and she’s safe, unless you decide to give me reason to end you.”

            A loud laugh burst from Lucius’s lips before he could restrain it.  “It matters, Bellatrix, because you weren’t there.  If you intend to maintain a relationship with the sister you have left, I suggest you start taking an interest in her.  And I won’t dignify the rest of that with comment.”

            “ _I_ wasn’t there? And what’ve you done for your father, while you’ve been off at school reporting first-years for running in the halls?”

            He stared at her for a long moment, his hand clenching involuntarily into a fist against the wood of the table. Without a word, he stood and turned away, not sparing a backward glance as he strode for the door and out into the cool air of what had become afternoon. Rage pulsed through him as he made his way back toward the castle, and he found himself unable to regret not explaining to Bellatrix what had transpired with the Amortentia. He doubted she would’ve had any advice to offer on the matter, and he wasn’t certain he could’ve endured being disappointed by the placement of her loyalties again.

            A group occupied the Slytherin Common Room by the time he returned. Several students stood talking and gesturing wildly at the room’s center, and within moments, Lucius understood that the name being repeated in an increasingly-flirtatious tone was his own and that the actions being pantomimed belonged to the love-potion-influenced Narcissa.

            What twisted his stomach, however, was the sight of the figure smirking at the group’s center.

            Rowle.

            “All of you out. Now.”

            Though Lucius’s voice left his lips in a low snarl, the silence following his words made it clear that everyone had heard. One by one, the students filtered out of the room. Rowle took a step toward the dormitories, and Lucius lunged forward to grip his arm tightly.

            “Not you.”

            Rowle let out a sigh, glancing between the last of his straggling friends smugly before looking to Lucius.

            “What is it you think you’re going to pin on me this time, Malfoy?”

            “Get. Out.”

            The two other boys exchanged glances and fled, leaving Lucius and Thorfinn alone.

            “I warned you,” said Lucius, his voice low and deadly as he spun Rowle around by the arm to face him more fully. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t stay away from her.”

            “ _I_ have done absolutely nothing,” snarled Rowle. “You’re the one she wouldn’t shut up about and was practically climbing all over. If anyone dosed her with Amortentia, it was—”

            “Funny,” said Lucius through gritted teeth, gripping Rowle’s arm as tightly as he could manage. “I didn’t mention Amortentia. Digging your own grave, now, are you? You and Alecto, at least? She mentioned you by name when she thought Narcissa was too drugged to notice. I’m really starting to doubt you and Carrow are Slytherins at all. Not a cunning bone in your bodies—just stupidity.”

            Rowle drew back his arm and elbowed Lucius hard in the ribs, causing the latter’s grip to slack long enough for the former to slide out of arm’s reach. Thorfinn reached for his pocket, but Lucius was quicker. He produced his wand and sliced it through the air in one fluid motion, and Rowle stumbled backward, clutching his face with one hand and reaching out to steady himself against the wall with the other as a pained cry burst from his mouth.

Lucius did not lower his wand. He stood perfectly still apart from the rise and fall of his shoulders with his breath, watching as Thorfinn faltered and dabbed at the blood trickling down his cheek and staining his fingers. Lucius had known Rowle’s pride had been wounded when Narcissa had rejected him—Thorfinn had always received exactly what he wanted, especially where objects of his affection were concerned.

            “See if anyone wants you now,” Lucius muttered, taking a step backward with a shake of his head. Hand still pressed to the gash lining his cheek, Thorfinn glared at Lucius with unconcealed fury as he slipped from the room in the direction of his dormitory.

            Several seconds passed in silence, and then Lucius let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He moved to the nearest chair and dropped into it, staring into the currently-dormant fireplace. Had his family’s reputation not depended upon his avoiding punishment, he knew he would’ve done much worse.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa receives a Howler from Druella.

Narcissa kept her focus primarily on the food in front of her at breakfast the morning after the ‘incident’ with the Amortentia. She had no idea how many of her classmates had heard about what had transpired, but if the fragments she’d been able to piece together with the stories her friends had told her were to be believed, she’d been seen by a fair number of people in the corridor while acting quite a bit more… _aggressively_ than normal, and Alecto Carrow had certainly blabbed to whoever would listen in an attempt to divert the ridicule to Narcissa instead of herself. Narcissa had yet to report Alecto or Thorfinn for slipping her the potion, but she had not ruled out the possibility. She knew they deserved much worse than being reported, but she planned to wait until she’d at least put her thoughts into relative order before making a move.

            She chanced a glance down the table to find that, thankfully, neither Thorfinn nor Alecto was in sight. Lenore, however, had not left Narcissa’s side since the previous evening. Narcissa had kept her word and attempted to find Lucius after she’d had a little time to clear her head, but she’d been unable to locate him. From what she’d gathered, he’d been involved in a confrontation, and though she was certain she knew with whom and why, she was trying hard to pretend she didn’t, if only for the sake of her own sanity. She couldn’t stand the thought of causing trouble for him, and she’d temporarily managed to push her guilt to a far enough corner of her mind to allow her to eat, though she wasn’t certain how long she could keep it there. She finished her toast and took a long drink of water, trying to avoid commenting on the fact that she could feel Lenore watching her.

            _I’m not going to spiral out of control, you know,_ she wanted to say. She knew, though, that Lenore was only hovering because she was concerned and because Lucius had requested it.

            A blur of feathers zipped by overhead, and a red rectangle dropped to the table before Narcissa’s plate. She froze.

            “Is that… well, who would that be from?” asked Lenore. Narcissa glanced to her friend to find her frowning, and then she returned her focus to what lay on the table, which could be only one thing.

            _I didn’t think they’d go so far as to send me a Howler, but I don’t know why I’m surprised._ She recognized the handwriting in which her name was printed as her mother’s, and whatever she had done to earn the displeasure of Druella’s attention, Narcissa knew it wasn’t wise to open the envelope in the Great Hall.

            “Mother,” she said flatly.

            She stood, pausing to stretch her legs, which suddenly felt as though they might’ve been made of lead, before starting for the door. As she’d expected, Lenore followed, and the two made their way to the dungeons in silence. When they’d reached their dormitory—empty, thankfully, apart from the two of them—Narcissa turned to Lenore, fighting to keep the panic from her voice and her expression.

            “Can you give me a little time, Lenny? Please? This is something I need to deal with alone.”

            “You don’t have to,” Lenore insisted, glancing at the red envelope that was becoming uncomfortably warm in Narcissa’s hand. “She’ll never know if you let someone else hear it.”

            “Please.”

            Lenore held Narcissa’s gaze for a long moment, and then she let out a sigh and took a step backward. “If that’s what you want.” Shaking her head, she turned and grabbed a book from her desk before striding out into the corridor and closing the door behind her.

            Narcissa sat down at the edge of her bed and scooted backward. She opened the envelope, her heart pounding obnoxiously and her movements careful and measured as she worked to keep her anxiety at bay. All at once, the envelope flew from her hands and into the air in front of her.

            “ _Narcissa Elladora Black!_ ”

            Narcissa felt her face begin to drain of color, and she sank back into her pillows, withdrawing from the shrill yet booming voice of her mother as it burst from the red envelope hovering over the floor before her.

            “ _How dare you besmirch our family’s dignity in such a way? You cannot begin to imagine how horrified I was to receive a letter concerning your behavior at school, the likes of which I have never_ _—you—how dare you reveal yourself in a public area with the intention of seducing that boyfriend of yours?_ _If you continue to behave in a manner unworthy of the Black name, we will no longer allow you to bear that name. Do not test us, Narcissa. Your father and I would greatly prefer not to lose a second daughter because our youngest cannot refrain from parading around a public institution like Hogwarts like a common harlot! If that behavior is what’s managed to secure you a potential second chance at a decent match, then fine—continue soiling our name and your reputation. But be discreet enough that word doesn’t reach me from an anonymous owl stressing ‘concern for our family’s well-being due to the obscene behavior’ of our child, the Prefect! I cannot begin to express how disappointed I am in you, and I will not stand for another of my children disgracing our name. Mind yourself.”_

            The letter combusted, its red stationary consumed in moments by flames that faded as the parchment was reduced to ash, which fell into a small, neat pile on the rug beside her bed. Narcissa stared at the little pile, the realization setting in slowly that she was trembling from head to foot as her mother’s voice echoed in that horrid shout through her mind.

 _She didn’t even need to bother signing it,_ she thought bitterly. Even if Narcissa had not been addressed personally within the letter, she would’ve been unable to mistake Druella’s voice and, more specifically, the tone the elder woman used when attempting to bully her way into receiving what she wanted. Though Narcissa was able to recognize it, she’d never been able to avoid or resist bending to this tone—if she wanted to remain a part of the Black family, it was necessary to concede to Druella and to Cygnus no matter how unreasonable their requests became, and though Narcissa hated how much of her agency had been stripped away over her short life by the very people who were supposed to encourage her personal growth, she had no idea how to regain that agency without making her life more miserable than it already was each time she found herself at the mercy of her parents.

            With a sigh, she rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her head into her hands, ordering herself to breathe deeply and regain control of herself before anyone could return to the dormitory. She hadn’t seen Rosalyn or Johanna yet this morning; she assumed they’d gone to breakfast early and were occupying themselves somewhere else, but she had no idea how long that would last. Lenore, on the other hand, would probably not stay away for longer than a few more minutes. She’d clearly been concerned when she’d realized who had sent the Howler, and Narcissa knew that Lenore was still under orders from Lucius to try to lift her spirits.

            Narcissa despised being the one her friends—and now her boyfriend—pitied. Despite her difficulties with her family, she was still a Black at heart, and her pride did not allow her to accept the pity of others well. She could normally manage her problems well enough to prevent her friends from suspecting that something was amiss until the issue had either passed or become unbearable, but recently, it seemed that every facet of her life had elected to spiral out of control at once, and she found her tolerance for further setbacks diminishing by the day.

            Her eyes stung, but she closed them tightly and refused to allow the tears to form completely.

 _It doesn’t matter what Mother thinks. I know the truth. I know none of what I did was of my own will, and no one whose opinions I care about thinks any differently. I only have to endure them until I graduate, and then… no._ She opened her eyes and lay down slowly, resting her head against her pillows as she stared at the wall behind Lenore’s bed without seeing it. _I’m stuck with them,_ Narcissa thought, _until I’m married and out of their house._ Her thoughts drifted to Lucius—they both knew, now, that they were destined for one another. But what were the benefits of finding this out at such a young age, truly, and did they outweigh the setbacks? Neither of them would have to worry about being alone or unloved, that much was clear. But one of life’s great mysteries had now been solved, and while the two were certainly meant to remain together, would Lucius want to rush into any form of commitment when he knew that, because of this ancient magical connection, there was nothing to make rushing necessary apart from the possible easing of Narcissa’s mind?

            “You’re doing it again,” she muttered bitterly to herself, closing her eyes once again. “Letting them get to you.”

            She knew this line of thought wouldn’t have crossed her mind at all, were it not for the intervention of her parents. After speaking with or spending extended periods of time with Cygnus or Druella, Narcissa frequently began to question her self-worth. If the two people who were supposed to value her the most treated her as little more than an object or the means of securing an alliance with another well-off family, she often asked herself, was that really all the value she possessed? But Hogwarts had always been her refuge. Here, she was surrounded by a fair number of idiots, but she was also an integral part of a group of Slytherins who, while initially introduced by their connected families, had formed and fostered friendships based on mutual respect, common interests, and admiration. She was wanted, here, and this had never been clearer than it had become since the development of her relationship with Lucius. She was agitated with herself for doubting even for a moment that he would be willing to commit to her—she knew, deep within her soul, that he loved her and wanted her beside him as much as she wanted to be there.

_I have to stop pushing him away. I think I’m the one who’s been afraid to let this become everything it can, and it’s not him I fear. It would never be. I just… hope that I’m enough._

            She wasn’t certain at what point she fell asleep while she lay there, but after what felt like only seconds, she awoke to the touch of a hand against her cheek. She tensed on instinct and then began to relax as she realized where she was and who had awoken her.

            “Lucius?” Narcissa sat up, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep and watching him with wide eyes. He stood beside her bed, one of his hands behind his back. “What’s going on?”

            “Lenore let me in.”

            Narcissa frowned, but Lucius continued before she could comment.

            “Try not to be angry with her,” he said.

            “I guess it depends on what she told you.”

            “We can talk about that in a little while. Come on. It’s too nice out to waste today in the castle.” He held out his hand, and she took it, climbing off the bed and to her feet.

            “Where are we going?” she asked, starting to smile.

            “To find some fresh air.”


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius discovers a solution to the problem of Narcissa's parents.

Lucius laid out the blanket he’d brought from his dormitory over the grass, smoothing its edges before taking Narcissa’s hand as she sat and settling onto the material beside her. He glanced out over the Black Lake and worked to get his thoughts in order, which proved a far more difficult task than he’d anticipated, now that she was here.

            Lenore had found him as quickly as she could manage after hovering outside the girls’ dormitory long enough to hear what Druella’s Howler had said. She’d known Narcissa was likely to be furious with her for repeating the letter’s contents, but Lenore and Lucius had agreed that acting on the Black matriarch’s threats was more important than avoiding Narcissa’s anger. After all, Lucius didn’t mind facing her momentary irritation as long as it meant keeping her safe, which was exactly what he’d begun working out how to do.

            “I’d say you have no idea how much I needed this,” said Narcissa, breaking the silence, “but I feel that’s probably not true.”

            “I know you’re in need of a little light, at the moment, and the dungeons aren’t really the best place for that, contrary to what Slughorn may try to tell you.”

            Narcissa laughed quietly. “Really, though, it’s a bit unsettling to think that you and Lenore have been conspiring. You each know too much for me to be comfortable with that.”

            “First of all,” said Lucius, trailing his fingers along Narcissa’s arm gently, “anything you’ve told me is strictly between us. Second, I’m certain Lenore feels the same. Apart from what happened today.”

            Narcissa’s smile slid from her face. “What is it she told you?”

            “That your mother is undoubtedly the most unreasonable woman on the planet and that we probably have one of our housemates to thank for sending her that anonymous letter. My money’s on Carrow.”

            Narcissa sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Lenore really couldn’t stay out of this, could she?”

            “She’s worried about you, as am I, and with good reason. Narcissa, the things Druella’s threatening are absurd, and there is absolutely no call for them. If your mother were in her right mind, she’d know you aren’t the type of person to intentionally bring dishonor on her—and, you know what, I’m _still_ in a state of disbelief that she’s managed to make this about herself.”

            “She always does.” Narcissa opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

            “That doesn’t make it better.”

            “I’ll get through it, Lucius. I always do. I’m accustomed to dealing with her and with Father, and at this point, I really shouldn’t even be surprised at the way they’re treating me. I should just learn to expect it, because then maybe it won’t be quite so disappointing.”

            “I’m not sure you understand,” he said seriously, his grey eyes fixed on her blue ones and all traces of both mirth and hesitation evaporating from his voice as he spoke. “It kills me to see you suffer through this, and if I have anything to say on the matter, I don’t intend to allow it to continue.”

            “What are you going to do?” Narcissa asked quietly. Her question was not a taunt or a challenge; her expression as she held Lucius’s gaze indicated that she took his words seriously if a bit warily. Perhaps she thought he intended to confront her parents directly. He knew this was not an option, if he didn’t want to risk making matters exponentially worse. His plan, on the other hand, would remove her from under the collective thumb of Cygnus and Druella and give her an opportunity at happiness… if it was indeed the life she wanted.

            “You and I both know we’re meant to be together. I don’t know if you felt it before our marks appeared, but the more I look back on things, the more I’ve started to realize that I think I already knew, at least in the back of my mind.” Lucius paused and drew in a deep, steadying breath. “So why continue to put off what we know is destined to happen?” He reached for her hand and enclosed it in both of his own, his gaze still trained on her face. “I love you, and I always will. I wanted to do this properly, when I’d had the time to stage some elaborate scene and after we’d had more time together. But if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that the way I feel about you will never change. I’ll never stop fighting to bring you joy, and if I can do that sooner than I’d planned by helping you to leave a situation that’s causing you nothing but pain, so much the better. Narcissa… will you marry me?”

            He didn’t realize how fiercely his heart was pounding until the silence following his words. In theory, it should’ve been simple. Lucius and Narcissa were soulmates, each predestined to be the one true love of the other. It was only natural that the two of them would one day marry, as they would never have reason to separate. Though this made sense to Lucius, he was uncertain whether Narcissa had drawn the same conclusions or would be ready to agree to something so serious.

            His fears were silenced when she leaned forward and met his lips, laying her free hand on his shoulder and grasping it gently. He held tighter to the hand clasped between his and kissed her gently but passionately, feeling his tension begin to ease.

            _Well, she didn’t run away. That must be a good sign._

            “Yes,” she muttered against his lips.

            He released her hand to wrap his arms around her tightly and pull her closer, relief crashing over him and bursting from his lungs in a short, half-hysterical laugh before he kissed her once again. His fingertips lightly traced her back, and her grip tightened on his shoulder. Several moments passed before Lucius pulled back, resting his forehead against Narcissa’s with a smile.

            “I love you,” Narcissa breathed, “and I can’t imagine anything better than spending my life with you.”

            His smile widening, Lucius shifted one hand to slide his fingers through Narcissa’s hair tenderly. “I can’t describe how glad I am to hear that. And I hope you know that I intend to do this again and do it the right way when I have a ring to give you. Blasted school, ruining my plans.”

            Narcissa laughed, shaking her head, and Lucius’s mouth twitched as her hair brushed against his cheek.

            “Your plans worked well enough without any of that,” she said. “Really, darling, I don’t need all the ceremony. The only thing I need is you.”

            He pressed a kiss to her forehead, a smirk beginning to creep onto his face. “That’s good to know, but I still want to make things as perfect as I can. And it’s ‘darling,’ now, is it?”

            “Hey.”

She poked him in the chest, and he let out a chuckle.

            “I’m going to find something you won’t complain about me calling you,” said Narcissa, “and you can either help me or draw out the process, but just know that if you choose the second option, I can figure it out in front of our friends, and I’m sure Walden and Augustus would enjoy having a few new things to use as ammunition.”

            Shaking his head with his smirk still in place, Lucius used the entwined position in which he and Narcissa found themselves to bring her with him as he lay down on the blanket. He settled onto his back, and he watched her begin to smile as she leaned in to kiss his cheek before lying down beside him and resting her head against his chest.

            “You can use whatever name you like,” he said. He didn’t mind in the slightest whatever she chose. He wouldn’t have objected to a series of obscenities strung together, as long as he could look forward to the day he would be able to call her his wife.

            “I’ll think about it,” she said.

            “Please do. And…” Lucius’s face fell slightly at the thought that had slipped into his mind, but he felt he had to push it into the open before he could decide against speaking the words. “I just want to make sure you remember everything you’re agreeing to. Everything I’ve signed on for and—”

            “Lucius. Hush.” Narcissa wrapped her arm around his waist, nuzzling against his chest. “I know exactly what I’m agreeing to, and I don’t care what else happens or what you’ll have to do for _him._ It’s not going to make me change my mind. Didn’t we establish this already?”

            He leaned down to kiss the top of her head as his smile returned. “Yes. I just wanted to make sure.”

            “And now you know.”

            “Yes.” Lucius nodded. “And that only leaves one terrifying thing we’ll have to do.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Tell everyone.”

            Narcissa let out a long, theatrical sigh. “Must we?”

            “Not yet. They can wait a little longer.”

            She nodded, and he traced her back lightly as they lay still, Lucius listening to the movement of the water and the sound of Narcissa’s breath and feeling certain that there was nowhere else he wanted to be.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa and Lucius discuss the future and deliver the good news to their friends.

_Andi-_

_You won’t believe what’s happened._

* * *

"...No."

* * *

 

_You probably saw this coming, but don’t rub it in._

* * *

"That's not it, either." 

* * *

 

 _I’m engaged. I’m still in a complete state of shock, and you’re the first person I’m telling. Things have been far more difficult this year at Hogwarts than I can tell you in a letter, but suffice it to say that I’ve been consistently one step away from following you out of our parents’ influence, either by my choice or by theirs. I can’t express how much I’m looking forward to starting my life with Lucius and being able to just…_ be happy _without their pressures and absurdities. I won’t know what to do with myself, when I don’t have to worry about them._

_I hope you and Ted and the baby are doing well—how long will it be before you find out whether you’re having a boy or a girl? And what supplies do you still need? I wasn’t able to bring you a wedding gift, and the least I can do is send you something for the baby._

_Love,_

_Cissy_

* * *

 

On her third attempt at starting the letter, Narcissa believed she’d made the closest thing she could manage to a good decision as to how it should begin, and after she’d sent it, she made her way out the Owlery door to where Lucius awaited her at the top of the steps.

            “Everything all right?”

            “Mhm. I hope she’ll take it well.”

            Lucius raised a brow as he and Narcissa began to descend the steps on their way toward the Great Hall. “You suspect she might not?”

            “It’s not that I think she’ll object to you at all,” Narcissa said quickly, her eyes wide as she attempted to cover for what she might’ve accidentally implied. “You remember how strongly she was hinting about us being soulmates when we met her at The Three Broomsticks? She knows it has to be you, for me.”

            Narcissa reached out to slip her fingers through Lucius’s and give his hand a squeeze, and at the warmth of his touch, she paused as something occurred to her. Despite the close friendship the two of them had shared for years, she’d only recently become at ease with these little touches and, what was more, she’d only recently come to realize exactly how comforting they could be. She’d known him for so long, but the little silver animal that had appeared on her back had given her permission to acknowledge and accept what some part of her must’ve already suspected—she wanted this, all of it. The ability to reach out and hold the hand of someone who understood her as no one else ever would. The ability to feel safe with someone, to feel _loved._

            “I’m just afraid,” she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed her pause, “she’ll be upset about the fact that she probably won’t be able to attend the wedding.”

            “Oh.” Lucius frowned. “Well, we’ll… figure out something.”

            “I don’t want to make things difficult for your family by leading the entire Pureblood community to think they support my sister’s decisions. It’s not fair to you to—wait, do your parents know? Did you tell them you were planning to ask me?”

            “No,” said Lucius with a shake of his head. “But don’t worry about them.” He ran his thumb over the back of Narcissa’s hand as they passed a group of young Ravenclaws making their way up the steps toward the Owlery. “I know you haven’t really been around my mother, but I’ve a feeling you’ll get on with her rather well. And my father…” He trailed off, and Narcissa felt suddenly colder as she recalled Abraxas’s poor health.

            “Do you think…?” Her voice left her lips quietly, and she attempted her question again, trying to keep her tone even. “Do you think it’s the right time? We shouldn’t put more stress on him than necessary.” Though the idea of postponing their plans was less appealing to her than that of singlehandedly fighting the entire Order of the Phoenix, she wasn’t certain how much time Abraxas had left, and she didn’t want to worsen his situation, if it was at all avoidable.

            “He made me swear I’d take his place.” Lucius’s voice was flat, and Narcissa knew he must’ve been working hard to keep it that way. He’d been deeply hurt by the withholding of information from his father, and she doubted he’d had any luck in determining how to handle the situation, with as hectic as the last few weeks had been. “The way I see it,” Lucius went on, “that means as patriarch of our family, at least eventually. I’m sure he’ll want to be here to see that I’m marrying someone worthy of our name.”

            Narcissa nodded, feeling as though she should say something but not knowing where to begin. _I appreciate that you think I’m worthy, and I only hope your parents agree. I also hope they prove to be more reasonable and pleasant to deal with than mine. Now that you’ve said the word ‘patriarch,’ it’s dawned on me that that’s going to involve children, which is something I should’ve thought about long before now, but I guess I’ve been too distracted to plan that far ahead, and…_ Perhaps that was as good of a place to begin speaking aloud as any, or so she reasoned.

            “Do you… do you have any idea when it is that you’ll want to… when they’ll want you to…?”

            She saw him look down at her in her periphery, but she kept her eyes trained on the path in front of her as they reached the bottom of the stairs and moved into the next corridor. Her cheeks burned fiercely, and she was certain he had to see her blushing.

            “To what?” Lucius asked. “Wait—no. Cissy, please, don’t even start to worry about that, right now. I meant years down the line, and we don’t need to think about it, at the moment. The last thing we need while everything’s so mad is to have another person to try to keep track of.”

            Narcissa sighed softly and allowed herself to look up at him at last to find that he was watching her with a hint of panic in his grey eyes. He’d apparently been as startled by the idea of parenthood as she had, which eased her mind, if only slightly.

            “I think you’re right,” she said, nodding.

            “Let’s just try to graduate without being maimed, hm?”

            Narcissa laughed, sliding closer as they walked. She enjoyed how well their hands fit together and the feeling of his arm brushing hers, and she realized it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything apart from him the longer they spent in one another’s company. Perhaps what she’d been in need of more than the distraction of schoolwork or distance from her parents was something positive on which to focus her attention or, as fate would have it, someone.

            “You need to worry about getting through the next _week_ in one piece, which may be difficult, from what I’ve heard about the Gryffindor team,” said Narcissa, smirking slightly as she watched Lucius’s face for a reaction. She knew how competitive he could be, particularly where Quidditch was concerned, and just as she’d expected, he began to scowl.

            “What’ve you heard?”

            “Just that they have it out for you. They know how badly you destroyed Hufflepuff, and they don’t want to give you the chance to do the same to them. Watch out for their Beaters, and… just be careful.”

            Lucius’s expression softened slightly, and he leaned down to press a kiss to Narcissa’s forehead. “I will. And then when we win, you and I can celebrate.” He grinned. “I’d say we could go back out to the lake, but it’s going to start getting colder, soon, and that may take the fun out of being outside.”

            “We’ll work out something.” She stretched up to kiss his cheek, smiling, and then glanced ahead as they entered the Great Hall. Lenore, Walden, and Augustus sat midway down the Slytherin table, Lenore and Augustus engaged in conversation while Walden attempted to distract Lenore by poking her sides. “I wonder if they’ve even noticed we weren’t with them,” Narcissa muttered.

            “I’m sure they have,” said Lucius, releasing her hand to wrap his arm around her waist and draw her closer. “They wouldn’t miss a chance to comment on it and try to embarrass us, if we let them.”

            Narcissa sat down beside Augustus, Lucius settling in next to her.

            “Be still, my heart!” Augustus cried, laying a hand over his chest. “They’ve graced us with their presence!”

            “You had these two,” said Lucius, nodding across the table to indicate Walden and Lenore. “Don’t complain.”

            “They’re insufferable if one’s left alone with them for too long, which I’m fairly certain you know. And now there’s you two.” Augustus made a face, his mouth twisting in disgust Narcissa hoped was only mocking.

            “About that.”

            Narcissa’s pulse began to accelerate, and she slid closer to Lucius under his arm as he spoke. They’d decided to inform their friends before their parents; Narcissa hoped that however these three reacted would help her to better brace herself for speaking with Cygnus and Druella. Lucius, at least, didn’t appear concerned that his family would react poorly, and that served as a small consolation, no matter what her own family would say.

            “We have something we’d like to tell you,” Lucius continued.

            “If you say you’re pregnant, I’m not sure whether I’ll kill you or scream with joy,” said Walden.

            “Why were you looking at Malfoy when you said that?” Augustus raised a brow.

            “Well, I’d assume he’s to blame.”

            “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” Narcissa let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head. “Just once, could you lot allow us to say something without ruining it with your stupidity?”

            “Stupidity?” repeated Walden. “Maybe you’ve been hanging around Malfoy alone a little too much. I thought you were the nice one.”

            “Compared to the rest of you, I still am.”

            “Anyway.” Lucius inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. “Do you want to tell them?” he asked, giving Narcissa’s waist a light squeeze.

            She nodded and clasped her hands in her lap, trying to keep her anxiousness from showing. “Well… we’re getting married.”

            Narcissa had never heard the group of people surrounding her hold their silence for more than a few seconds at a time, so when several moments stretched on with no one speaking, her panic began to increase, and she felt her face starting to flush. At last, Lenore spoke, her brown eyes wide.

            “When?” she demanded.

            “We don’t know, yet,” said Lucius. “We’re not talking about tomorrow or anything like that, but… there you have it.”

            “Congrats, mate,” said Walden, reaching across the table to clap Lucius on the shoulder.

            “Well, you beat us to it, didn’t you?” asked Lenore, winking at Narcissa.

            “Lenny…”

            “Hush, Walden, I’m only joking.”

            Narcissa felt Augustus tense beside her, and she glanced up at him in time to catch the blank look with which he’d been watching her before he slipped on a smile and clapped her on the back.

            “I’m thrilled for you,” he said. “Both of you.”

            “Thank you,” said Narcissa, mentally filing away his odd reaction to be considered at another time.

            “Ooh, you should tell Sluggy,” said Lenore, wiggling her brows. “He already thinks you two walk on water. He’ll want a front-row seat. I, on the other hand, would prefer to be a bit closer to the action.”

            Narcissa raised a brow. “Are you really selecting yourself for a spot in the wedding party already?”

            “The only one that matters. Other than you two, of course,” Lenore added hastily. “Someone has to help you plan, and I think you and I both know Bellatrix would be rubbish at the job.”

            Narcissa laughed quietly with a shake of her head. “We’ll talk about it later. I’m just glad everything’s out in the open, at least with all of us.”

            “Your families?” asked Augustus.

            “We’ll deal with them in time,” said Lucius. “Right now, let’s not worry about it.”

            Walden nodded. “Good idea. We have a game to focus on. I need to put a few Galleons on this one… it’s bound to be bloody.”

            Narcissa frowned, opening her mouth to protest, but she paused and turned to look at Lucius when she felt the brush of his lips against her cheek.

            “We’re going to be fine,” he mumbled.

            “You’d better,” she whispered back.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius plays Quidditch, receives a note and a special item from home, and learns something he wishes he hadn't.

“On your left!”

Lucius banked hard to the right, moving out of the Bludger’s path an instant before it would’ve impacted his shoulder. He cast a withering glance at Dorcas Meadowes, who lingered only a moment before zipping off after the Bludger, her bat raised. Lucius looked to Walden and nodded appreciatively for the warning before returning his focus to scanning the air for the little golden ball he’d been tracking.

_There. Just a few meters from the goalpost._

He leaned forward, guiding the broom toward the Snitch, which zipped around behind the three Gryffindor goalposts as though determined to put Lucius directly in the path of as many members of the opposing team as possible.

_Brilliant._

He dove to dodge another Bludger and narrowly missed the foot of the Gryffindor Keeper, which moved far too near to his head for comfort, before flying directly through one of the goalposts—a move that earned quite a bit of cursing from Gryffindor—and emerging beside the Snitch. Lucius gripped his broom tightly with one hand and lunged for the spot where the little blasted winged thing hovered, and when his fingers closed around the Snitch, cheers erupted from the Slytherin section of the stands. He scanned the crowd as he began his descent, and as he spotted Narcissa in the first row, he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

He only halfway paid attention to the congratulations and pats on the back from his teammates when he reached the ground. He knew Slytherin was well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup, and he knew the team wouldn’t have been able to reach this level of success without him, which, he couldn’t deny, added to his already-considerable pride. At the moment, though, he was more excited about the fact that he could share this victory with his fiancée.

_Fiancée. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that._

She was waiting beneath the stands; as he started off the field and toward the locker room, he found himself being caught by the arm and dragged off-course, not that he minded in the slightest. His grin returned when they were alone beneath the wooden latticework and the thundering footsteps of the dispersing crowd.

“You were right,” said Narcissa, smiling up at him as the light breaking through the stands above them cast a pattern of lines over her face. “There was no reason to worry.”

“I told you.” Lucius smirked, laying a gloved hand on her cheek and leaning down to meet her soft lips. Narcissa moved closer, sliding an arm around his shoulders and molding her body to his as she returned the kiss. Lucius was certain this closeness would be temporary—they were, after all, still technically in public, and regardless, he didn’t plan to push her to move more quickly than she was prepared to—but he savored it all the same. His free hand brushed over the spot on her back where he knew the likeness of his patronus was hidden, and a small shiver passed through her. After a moment, he drew back to meet her eyes. “Thank you for coming to watch.”

“I needed to know what I’d be helping you brag about.” Narcissa pressed another kiss to his cheek and then reached for his hand, giving it a pull in the direction from which they’d come. “Go get changed before they start missing you. I’ll save you a spot at supper.”

They emerged from beneath the stands in time for Lucius to be swept into a crowd of cheering Slytherins, and he watched Narcissa slip off toward the castle.

* * *

_Lucius—_

_I admit I was thrilled to receive your letter, though I should probably be telling you it was a mistake to make such a huge decision without conferring with your father and myself first. If he should inquire, tell him I thoroughly chastised you for how irresponsible it was, etc. For now, though, I’ve done as you asked and refrained from mentioning it to him so that you can make the announcement yourself the next time you’re home. I found out too late about your last visit; I’d gone out with my sister and your cousin Avalon—both of whom send you their warmest regards—and was highly frustrated with your father for not warning me so that I could see you._

_He’s also informed me that you’ve become aware of his illness. I’m so sorry that you had to find out in such a terrible way. I tried to persuade him to tell you before you left for school, but he didn’t want to drop that type of burden on you in your last year—I believe he was hoping that the potions he’s taking to treat the symptoms would hold off the condition’s progress long enough that there would be no reason to worry until after you graduate. Try not to be too angry with him, if you can._

_Returning to a more pleasant topic: I’ve attached the ring. I had it made to your specifications, and I’m certain Narcissa will be thrilled with it. I wish I could see her reaction in person, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m incredibly happy for you._

_Love,_

_Mother_

* * *

Lucius shook his head as he reread the note that had accompanied the small package he’d received that morning. He appreciated his mother’s enthusiasm and willingness to assist in procuring the ring, but he knew he needed to speak with his father sooner rather than later to inform Abraxas of the engagement. _She’s never been wonderful at keeping secrets. It’s a wonder she never mentioned how ill he is._

            Lucius paused, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. _Don’t focus on that, right now,_ he ordered himself. _From what Mother says, Father wouldn’t want me dwelling on it, either. It’s not like there’s anything I can do to help, at the moment._ He tried not to let his thoughts linger on how powerless that realization made him feel and how he loathed feeling powerless more than any other state of being. Instead, he flicked open the box that had been wrapped and delivered along with his mother’s note and examined the ring within. The band was white gold, and the large central diamond was flanked on either side by a smaller though equally-bright stone. He hoped his mother was correct in anticipating Narcissa’s reaction. _The last thing I want to do is disappoint her._

            “Let me see it.”

            Lucius glanced up from the ring. He’d forgotten that the others had accompanied him back to their dormitory to deposit their Quidditch gear, and he saw now that Walden was eyeing the box attentively while Augustus was rummaging through his school bag across the room. Lucius held out the box, and Walden leaned closer, raising a brow as he inspected the ring. He nodded approvingly.

            “Well done.”

            Lucius rolled his eyes. “What the hell do you know about rings?”

            “More than you think. My aunt dragged me along when she was sure her boyfriend was planning to propose, thinking he’d ask me or my sister what she liked. He ended up getting something fairly close to the opposite of what she wanted, and for a few days, I would’ve really rather been out on a mission than under that roof.”

            “Would you two hurry? We’re already late.”

            Lucius glanced to Augustus, who dropped the bag he’d been examining to the floor beside his bed and strode from the room without another word. When he’d gone, Lucius frowned, looking to Walden.

            “He’s incredibly pleasant.”

            “He’ll get over it. I do feel a bit bad for him, though.” Walden shrugged. “I mean, at least before, he had you to bond with over how irritating you both found me and Lenore. Now you’re paired off, and it doesn’t help that it’s with Narcissa.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucius’s frown deepened, and Walden stared at him for a long moment with an expression that suggested he’d just been asked to explain a simple addition problem to a dense child.  

            “You honestly haven’t noticed, have you?” he asked at last.

            “Noticed what?” Though he attempted to keep the edge from his tone, Lucius doubted he’d succeeded. He was relatively certain he knew what Walden would tell him, but a small part of him hoped that being unreceptive to the news could keep it from being true.  

            Walden sighed heavily. “It doesn’t matter. You two have been marked. He knows he doesn’t have a chance. C’mon, we _are_ already late.”

            Walden started for the door, and Lucius followed, closing the box and slipping it into his pocket as he did his best to forget what he’d just learned.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius has a surprise for Narcissa.

_If Mother had seen us outside…_ The thought brought a smirk to Narcissa’s lips as she sat in the Great Hall awaiting the appearance of Lucius and the others.  Her actions beneath the Quidditch stands had been the closest she’d ever come to an inappropriate display of affection, and even then, she’d been careful not to allow anyone to be near enough to witness the kiss that still lingered like a pleasant fog over her thoughts.  

            “Would you quit? That look is a little too satisfied for my tastes.”

            “Hush, Lenny.  Let me have this.” Narcissa stuck out her tongue at her friend and pulled it back in quickly, unwilling to allow anyone else to see her momentary lapse in decorum before her smirk returned.   _I’m happy, for once.  Just let it be.  I humored you and Walden endlessly, and if Lucius and I ever manage to be as ridiculously inappropriate as the two of you, you’ll have the right to complain.  And I’ll want my brain examined._

            “At least acknowledge they’re all being irritating, at the moment,” said Lenore with a frown.  “Even him.  They can’t possibly still be outside.”

            “They might’ve had things to discuss with the team.” Narcissa shrugged.  

            “Which they can do later, considering Lucius can call them to meet whenever he feels like it.”

            “Just start eating, then, if you’re so impatient.” Narcissa rolled her eyes.  “I won’t stop you.”

            “No, but you’ll sit there and judge me,” said Lenore, casting a glance at the large bowl of potatoes sitting before her, ready to be dispensed onto their plates.  

            “When have I ever judged you?” asked Narcissa, raising a brow.  “Wait, let me rephrase: when have I ever judged you apart from when you and Walden were snogging loudly in front of me?”

            “Loudly?” Lenore repeated, blinking.

            Narcissa was spared further explanation by the appearance of Augustus, who sat down across from her and Lenore, a frown set on his lips and his dark eyes fixed on the table as he folded his hands on its edge.

            “Are you all right?” asked Narcissa.  

            “And did you lose the other two?”

            Narcissa nudged Lenore's foot with her own beneath the table, hoping her friend would pick up on the fact that it wasn’t the time to pester Augustus, who shrugged noncommittally.

            “They’ll be here, I assume,” he said. “And I’m fine.”

            “That’s not what it looks like to me.” Narcissa reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but he drew backward, lowering both his hands to beneath the table.

            “And you’ve been paying attention, have you?” Augustus asked, his mouth twisting in what looked like a cynical brand of amusement.

            Narcissa frowned. She suspected Lenore’s agitation was directed primarily at Walden for his tardiness and that she herself had just been in the line of fire, but what she’d done to earn this treatment from Augustus, she had no idea. “You know,” she said, “I’ve had enough of people criticizing me for a while, thank you.” She glanced toward the Ravenclaw table, distracting herself by watching a pair of younger students who’d managed to fit a Wizard’s Chess board between their food-laden plates and were barking orders at the game pieces between bites of chicken.

            “Narcissa, I’m sorry.”

            She grudgingly returned her focus to Augustus, who was watching her, his shoulders slightly more slumped than they’d been at her last glance.

            “It’s just been a long day,” he added.

            Narcissa gave a small nod. “It was a good game.” It was plain even to her ears that her words no longer held enthusiasm, and she hated that she’d been conditioned to allow her mood to disintegrate at the slightest negative word. Of all the complaints she held about herself, the strongest was that she had been unable to resist the gradual chipping-away by her parents of the optimistic nature she’d possessed in childhood.

            “One more like it and we’ve got the Quidditch Cup.”

            Narcissa looked up at the sound of Lucius’s voice, and at the sight of him moving down the table toward her, his white-blond hair tousled—she presumed from recently changing his clothing—and that confident smile she’d come to adore in place on his lips, she was reminded that she no longer needed to care what her parents thought or allow herself to be influenced by their conditioning more than she could avoid. She had begun to take her life into her own hands to pursue the future she wanted, and Cygnus and Druella would no longer be able to change her mind or force her into anything.

_Even if they wanted to, there’s no way I’d let them keep me from him._

            She realized, then, that she could not find it within herself to remain angry with Andromeda for the decision that had separated them.

_Love can be a strong motivator._

            Lucius settled into the free seat beside Narcissa, leaving Walden to file into the vacant spot across from Lenore and beside Augustus, who appeared suddenly fascinated by the array of food before him.

            “We were beginning to wonder if you two had been eaten by something,” said Lenore flatly, shooting a look at Walden.

            “I think she would’ve hunted you down, after a few more minutes,” said Narcissa.

            “Our apologies.”

            “Speak for yourself, Malfoy. I would’ve liked to see Lenny get aggressive.”

            “I think I speak for everyone when I say I’d rather not see this meal return immediately after eating it,” said Lucius, “so please, Macnair, try not to speak.”

            Laughs passed around the table, and Narcissa felt the mood beginning to lift. She finally shifted food onto her plate from the piles arranged before her, and the longer she spent listening to the jokes and insults flung by her friends and a moment-by-moment retelling of the Quidditch match, the farther the tension of earlier moved from her mind. When everyone had finished eating and the group made its way out of the Great Hall, Lucius reached for Narcissa’s hand.

            “Might I borrow you for a few minutes before we go back to the Common Room?” he asked, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

            “What do you have in mind?”

            “It’s a surprise, naturally.”

            “Hm…” She paused, pretending to deliberate, and then she nodded. “I think I could spare a few minutes.”

            “Then we’ll meet you three shortly,” said Lucius, looking toward Walden, Augustus, and Lenore.

            “Right.” Walden nodded. “If we’re not in the Common Room, we’re not stirring up trouble, just so you know and so you don’t feel obligated to report us for anything.”

            “You are absolutely hopeless,” said Augustus, shaking his head. He turned and started off toward the dungeons, and the others followed. Narcissa returned her attention to Lucius.

            “So where are we going?”

            “That’s part of the surprise, I’m afraid.” He gave her hand a gentle pull toward the staircase leading to the next floor. “I also request that you close your eyes.”

            Narcissa blinked. “As we take the stairs?”

            Lucius’s smile fell away, his expression becoming serious. “Don’t worry, Cissy, I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”

            She sighed lightly and closed her eyes when they’d stopped walking at the foot of the staircase, and she felt him move closer, trading the hand he held to his right so that his left could take her waist.

            “I’m trusting you, you know,” said Narcissa.

            “I would hope so, by this point.”

            Narcissa smiled softly and allowed herself to be guided up the steps, her grip tight on Lucius’s hand and her steps small and measured. Her footing was questionable at times on solid ground with her vision intact, and she had no desire to ruin whatever he was planning by the trip to the Hospital Wing that would result were she to fall down the stairs. She lost track of how long they climbed; her focus was torn between keeping herself moving gradually upward without tripping and how close he had moved in an effort to keep her steady. His arm was wrapped tightly around her back, his hand resting at her waist and his side pressed close enough to hers that she could feel the warmth and strength of his body. His hands tightened on her waist and her own hand at intervals, when the shifting of the staircases would necessitate a pause, and though the racing of Narcissa’s heart betrayed her panic, that fear was due to the untrustworthy nature of the castle’s stairways. Not a moment passed when she doubted that she was safe under Lucius’s guidance.

            “All right, that’s the last of the stairs,” he said at last. “The rest is smooth.”

            “Thank Merlin.”

            His quiet chuckle sounded from near her ear, and he led her forward for a few moments longer before speaking again.

            “We’re here. Look whenever you like.”

            Narcissa opened her eyes to the sight of the night sky. She had been led, she realized, to the top of the Astronomy Tower, and now she and Lucius stood beside the railing at the edge of the balcony overlooking the courtyard in front of the castle. A few students straggled out on the grounds, most of them making their way back toward the school, but the area was primarily vacant. The air was cool and still, and the stars glinted overhead. Narcissa opened her mouth to comment on the loveliness of the image, but the words escaped her. She turned her head to find Lucius watching her, amusement clear on his features.

            “It’s incredible,” she managed at last.

            “I didn’t get the chance to make the proposal I’d hoped for, so I wanted to make sure that the scenery was appropriate for this, at the very least.” He released her hand, keeping one of his at her waist, and reached into his pocket. Narcissa’s eyes widened as she watched him remove a small box from within, and her mouth went suddenly dry. “I know you’ve technically already answered, but humor me, if you please.”

            He gave her waist a light squeeze and then drew back, lowering himself onto one knee as he flicked open the box. The ring within—white gold with three diamonds glimmering in the light that reached the balcony from above—was more beautiful than the ones Narcissa had imagined in her youth and seen on the fingers of Purebloods a few years older than herself who’d already wed. It seemed to her the perfect representation of her feelings; she couldn’t imagine a more perfect ring for her tastes, and she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person from whom to receive it.

            “Narcissa Black…” Lucius began, pulling the ring from the box, which he set on the floor beside him before sliding the ring onto Narcissa’s finger. “…would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

            She dropped to her knees in front of him, unbothered by the coldness of the floor or the thought of impropriety, and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning close enough to breathe her response against his lips as she closed her eyes.

            “The honor would be mine.”

            She felt his smile and then his arms encircling her, and then she was lost in his kiss.


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius is told to meet Bellatrix for information, and Narcissa wants to use the opportunity to tell her the news.

“It isn’t like we’re going to be doing anything entertaining. You know your sister would rather swallow a Blast-Ended Skrewt than spend time with me she doesn’t have to.”

            Narcissa appeared to be trying to keep a straight face until the debate had been won, but the corners of her mouth twitched at this observation from Lucius. It was true; he was unafraid to admit the tension between Bellatrix and himself at the best of times, and on days like this one, when he had been instructed to meet her to receive instructions for his next task for the Dark Lord, he was certain that tension would be stronger than ever. He hoped whatever news the eldest Black sister planned to impart would not be enough to ruin the good mood in which he’d found himself recently, but if it was, allowing Narcissa to see that mood vanish seemed like an incredibly bad idea. However, she was proving highly difficult to dissuade from accompanying him.

            “While I’m sure you’re right about her preferences,” said Narcissa, “I’d rather have Bella find out about the engagement from us and not my parents. I can’t imagine what they’d tell her, but it seems like a bad idea.”

            “And when do you plan on telling _them_ about it?”

            She gave a half-shrug, turning her head to stare into the Common Room fireplace. “How does ‘ _When we go home for the holidays_ ’ sound?”

            Lucius raised a brow, tightening the hand he’d rested on her knee to give it a squeeze. “Do you really think it’s wise to wait? Won’t they hear about it from someone else before then?”

            “And when are you planning to tell your father?” Narcissa asked, returning her focus to Lucius’s face with a challenge apparent in the set of her lips.

            “…Soon.”

            Lucius knew Narcissa had a point; neither of them was particularly eager to inform their parents that they had made such an important decision without asking for permission. Cygnus and Druella generally attempted to control every aspect of their daughters’ lives, moving them like chess pieces and taking personal offense when one of those pieces elected to act of her own free will, and though Abraxas had never gone to quite the same lengths to control his son as the Blacks would have, Lucius knew his father also greatly enjoyed being in control. It wasn’t a fear of his father disapproving of his choice that had kept Lucius from telling Abraxas the news so much as fear of what the elder Malfoy would attempt to do in order to make up for the lack of consultation on the matter. Would Abraxas compensate by increasing the pressure he placed on his son in other areas, determined not to lose what control he still possessed? What if that pressure would now be applied to Narcissa, as well, and she would be trading one disaster for another? Lucius reminded himself that as difficult as his father could be, Abraxas was still preferable to Cygnus and Druella Black. Still, Lucius wouldn’t have put it beyond his father’s capabilities to begin trying to persuade his new daughter-in-law to produce an heir sooner rather than later, and while Narcissa still had a year of schooling to complete, Lucius had no desire to make her life more difficult than it needed to be. _I’d hoped this would make things easier on her,_ he thought. _I suppose I’d forgotten how determined they all are to keep anything from being easy._

            “We’ll have to tell them all,” he said, “so we might as well deal with them and get it over with so that we can focus on the more pleasant details.”

            “I do look forward to the planning,” Narcissa admitted. “When we were younger, Bella and Andi and I used to talk about how we wanted our dresses to look and what types of flowers we wanted. I did get a letter from Andromeda, by the way.”

            “How did that go?” Lucius was certain that he would never be able to be on perfect terms with the disowned Black sister and her husband, but he intended to keep the peace with them as long as that was what Narcissa wanted. He could only hope word of his willingness to tolerate, however grudgingly, Andromeda’s betrayal of Pureblood values would never reach his father.

            “She’s thrilled for us. She says she wishes she could attend the ceremony, whenever we have it, but that she doesn’t want to ruin it for us by causing problems with the family.” Narcissa’s shoulders fell slightly, and Lucius frowned. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it would have been to lose—at least publicly—someone with whom he’d been close since birth and whom he’d leaned on to survive in a house as toxic as the Blacks’.

            “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I want to find a way for her to be there for you—I want you to have that.”

            “Thank you.” Narcissa laid a hand on the one Lucius had rested on her knee and traced its back with her fingertips. “I don’t want to put you in a bad position.”

            “We’ll figure out something.” He turned his hand over and lifted hers to his lips, kissing her slender knuckles. “I promise you. In the meantime, if you just happen to appear while I’m speaking with Bellatrix, I won’t have had anything to do with it and I won’t be able to stop you.”

* * *

“I really don’t think this is the best place for us to be meeting to discuss these things.” Lucius found himself scowling involuntarily at the state of the room surrounding him. The floor of the Hog’s Head Inn was coated in such a thick layer of filth that Lucius’s feet appeared to be resting on solid dirt beneath the table, and his hands rested in his lap, as he’d been unwilling to place them on a table so roughly-hewn hewn that it might have been hauled directly out of the forest without a second glance by a carpenter. He’d begun to have second thoughts about having Narcissa meet him here the instant he’d entered the building, but by that point, it had been too late to contact her and change the plan.

            “Would you prefer The Three Broomsticks?” asked Bellatrix, her lips twisting into a mocking pout and her dark, heavily-lidded eyes widening in false sympathy. “Where any of the students you’re supposed to be in charge of could see you speaking with me?”

            “You forget: the majority of those students have no idea whom you’re working for, and being seen with a member of the Black family isn’t exactly a bad thing. Just because you’ve decided you’re willing to become an outlaw for the sake of the cause doesn’t mean the world sees you that way.”

            Bellatrix frowned deeply. “Remind me not to bother trying to preserve your image in the future, Malfoy.”

            “You really think I believe you give a damn about my image?”

            “No, but whether you believe it or not, I do give a damn about my sister’s, and it appears to be tied to yours, regardless of whether I like it. Personally, I’d rather see her dating someone with less hair than she has—are you growing yours out? It’s at that awkward stage where I can’t quite tell—”

            “Don’t you have information for me?” Lucius pressed, ignoring Bellatrix’s comment about his hair. He had given thought to growing it out, though at the moment, any additional length was accidental and due to the fact that it hadn’t been trimmed recently, and he knew she was only fishing for things she anticipated would bother him.

            Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “Your patience is impressive as always.”

            “I do have places I’d rather be.” _Literally anywhere,_ he added mentally.

            “You need to be prepared,” said Bellatrix, her tone becoming suddenly serious. “After this term ends, he’s going to want you to prove yourself.”

            “And how does he want me to do that?”

            “There’s still an Unforgivable Curse you haven’t tried.”

            Lucius was silent. He hadn’t expected this test to arrive until the end of his training, and he wondered whether that end was coming sooner than he was prepared to accept. Perhaps the Dark Lord knew more about the state of Abraxas’s health than what Lucius had been informed and the younger Malfoy’s training was being accelerated to allow him to take his father’s place, but without knowing this for certain, Lucius ordered himself not to worry about it at the moment and to focus on the matter at hand.

            “Is that a problem?” asked Bellatrix when he said nothing.

            “Of course not,” Lucius snapped. “I’m more than ready.”

            “I’ll believe that when I see—” Bellatrix’s gaze flicked away from Lucius’s face as the Hog’s Head’s front door creaked open, and Lucius knew from the surprise and agitation warring for dominance in her expression when she returned her focus to him exactly what was happening. He knew Narcissa had arrived even before he turned in his uncomfortable wooden seat to face her, waving her over toward where they sat.

            “What part of ‘ _preserving her image_ ’ is beyond your ability to comprehend?” Bellatrix hissed.

            “Hm? Oh, I didn’t tell her to meet us. She must’ve gotten bored waiting for me to come back.”

            “If you think I believe that for a second—”

            “Bella.” Narcissa had reached the table, by this point, and she moved to where her sister sat and leaned over to embrace the elder Black. Bellatrix returned the hug, though she shot a look at Lucius over her sister’s shoulder that might’ve melted lead. “I’m so glad to see you,” Narcissa continued.

            “And I you. How have you been? I’ve heard our parents have been, ah, unpleasant to deal with.”

            Narcissa settled into the seat beside her sister and glanced across the table at Lucius, flashing him a smile before returning her attention to Bellatrix.

            “Yes, but let’s not discuss them, right now. There’s something I want to tell you. _We_ want to tell you, I mean.”

            Lucius refused to react to the second look Bellatrix sent in his direction. When Narcissa reached over the table, however, he lifted his hand to slip beneath hers and grasp it while shielding it from the roughness of the surface beneath them. Bellatrix glanced down at their joined hands and the ring that had become visible on Narcissa’s finger. The color drained from Bellatrix’s face.

            “You—wait a moment, you’re— _now?_ You’re still in school! And he’s—he’s—”

            “He’s _what_ , Bella?” Narcissa’s smile faded, and her expression dared her sister to complete the thought. Bellatrix said nothing immediately, glancing from one of them to the other and back, her frustration evident in the frown that appeared to be on its way to becoming a permanent fixture on her face. She inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh.

            “Are you completely sure about his?” she said at last. “That this is what you want?”

            “Of course I am. I’m more certain of it than I’ve ever been about anything.”

            “I’ve heard that before,” Bellatrix muttered. She shook her head. “Well… if he legitimately makes you happy, then I’m not going to tell you how bad of an idea I think this is.”

            “Thank you,” said Narcissa flatly.

            Lucius chuckled. “She’s taking it better than I thought she would.”

            “Shut it, Malfoy.”

            “Bella,” said Narcissa, frowning. “Why must you two—?”

            “If you’re happy, then I’m happy,” said Bellatrix, reaching out to give her sister’s shoulder a squeeze. “I mean it. And I will support your decision.”

            Narcissa paused, and Lucius assumed she was weighing whether it was best to accept this or press for something more. At length, she nodded.

            “All right,” she said. “Just please… don’t say anything to Mother and Father about it, yet.”

            “Oh no,” said Bellatrix with a sharp laugh. “That one’s on you.”


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon returning home for the holidays, Narcissa faces her parents.

By the time the holidays arrived, Narcissa was still thoroughly unprepared to return home. She did her best to keep her head high as she made her way onto the Hogwarts Express, the train’s loud whistle stinging her ears, and strode quickly through the steadily-filling compartments toward the Prefects’ carriage. She smiled at familiar faces as she passed and offered a polite greeting now and then, but her thoughts were far from the train.

            In her most recent letter, Andromeda had expressed a desire to see Narcissa again and to bring Ted along with her. Andromeda wanted to offer congratulations to her sister’s engagement in person and to discuss any plans Narcissa might have for the wedding. Just the idea of trying to arrange another meeting with her sister tied Narcissa’s stomach in knots, particularly when she was already so anxious about what her parents were going to say about the engagement.

            Narcissa yelped as arms wound around her waist the moment she entered the Prefects’ carriage and pulled her into the corner. A ripple of panic passed through her stomach. She turned within her captor’s grasp at the same moment he pressed a kiss to her temple. Narcissa let out a relieved sigh.

            “Don’t scare me like that.” She looked up into the face of Lucius to find him smirking, and though her pulse still hadn’t returned to a normal rate after he’d startled her, she found a smile creeping onto her lips.

            “Terribly sorry.” Lucius chuckled. He glanced down the compartment, and Narcissa followed his gaze to find that none of the other Prefects had yet arrived. She felt the warmth of his fingers on her chin as he guided it toward him once again and lifted it as he leaned down to touch his lips to hers softly. Despite her tension, Narcissa started to allow herself to relax. Lucius shifted his hands to rest on her waist and draw her closer, and she closed her eyes, kissing him more deeply the longer their lips were joined and forgetting, for the moment, about everything else.

            _How does he do this?_ She thought. _How does he make everything so much—?_

“I’m to going to pretend I don’t see that, Malfoy. And—you, too, Black? Excellent examples you’re setting for the students.”

            Lucius pulled back with a sigh, and Narcissa turned her head toward the voice she knew belonged to Dorcas Meadowes, who had entered the compartment from the other side without making a sound. Narcissa’s cheeks burned.

            “Oh, come off it, Meadowes,” said Lucius flatly. “No one else saw.” When Dorcas shook her head and settled into a seat at the back of the compartment, Lucius leaned downward, and Narcissa heard his voice at her ear. “But if they had, they might’ve learned something.”

            Narcissa thumped him lightly on the chest and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the seats. She knew they would have to serve shifts keeping order on the train, but for the moment, obligation had not yet called to them. As they settled into adjoining seats and Narcissa leaned her head against Lucius’s shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, she forced herself not to think of the first-years she would have to wrangle or the people awaiting her at home. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be content.

* * *

The only sounds in the dining room were those of cutlery scraping against plates and a clock ticking from the corner, measuring the seconds Narcissa spent wishing she was anywhere but here. Now and then, she glanced up at her parents as they ate, wondering what they were thinking and how much they’d heard, if anything, of what she’d agreed to without their consent.

            “Narcissa.”

            She looked to her father, who had paused with a bite of steak on his fork to watch her closely.

            “Yes, Father?”

            “Has Dumbledore given any indication as to whether you’ll be chosen as Head Girl, next year?”

            Narcissa let out an inaudible sigh and shook her head. “He hasn’t spoken to me of next year at all,” she said.

            Cygnus frowned. “The fool never could plan, could he?”

            Though the question sounded rhetorical and Cygnus resumed eating, Druella answered.

            “No, though thankfully we only had to deal with him as a professor and not as head of the school.” Druella shook her head, her nose wrinkled in distaste. “I’m sure he’s tried to impose his Muggle-loving beliefs on the students, now that he’s in a position of power.”

            Narcissa held her tongue. She’d never been alone with Dumbledore long enough to learn whether this was true, and she didn’t want to weigh in on the matter with so little information and irritate her parents with her before she could find the words to tell them what she’d been waiting to say all evening.

            The silence resumed, and Narcissa looked down at her plate, where her food lay barely touched. She’d never been able to force herself to eat when anxious, and currently, her nerves were at all-time high. Her hands were trembling, and she laid her fork and knife down on her plate and folded her hands in her lap before she could draw attention to her level of uneasiness.

            _Just get it out of the way,_ she told herself. _It won’t be that difficult. …Lying to myself will help nothing, at this point. Yes, it’s going to be difficult._

            “Mother, Father, I—” Narcissa paused, gulped, and tried again, forcing her gaze to remain steady and move between Druella and Cygnus smoothly, without the franticness that hovered over her thoughts and threatened her actions. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

            Druella’s eyes narrowed, and Cygnus laid his knife down, taking a swig from his wineglass before he addressed his daughter.

            “And?” he prompted.

            “Lucius has asked me to marry him.”

            The words hung in the air, and Narcissa wrung her hands in her lap, unconsciously twisting the ring on her fourth finger and praying they didn’t ask to see it. She had very little hope of having it returned to her, if they did.

            “And I suppose you refrained from answering until receiving our permission?” Cygnus raised a brow, an unmistakably hard edge to his tone.

            “I… well, actually, I—”

            “Narcissa Elladora Black.” Cygnus leaned forward in his chair, and though he sat at the head of the table and Druella was stationed between them with a fair bit of space between each person, Narcissa couldn’t fight the urge to recoil in her seat. “Are you telling us that you have responded to a marriage proposal without consulting us?”

            “I—Mother said in her letter that you weren’t bothered by our seeing one another, and—”

            Druella laughed flatly, and Narcissa continued, undeterred.

            “—and that I wasn’t to ruin a chance to marry into such a prestigious bloodline, and so I thought you wanted me to accept.”

            “I daresay what we want had little to do with what you decided to do,” said Druella coldly, shaking her head. “When was the last time you heeded anything we said? Do you think we’ve forgotten the indecency that made us the laughing stock of our circle until the Goyles’ youngest got himself expelled?”

            “Mother, please, you never gave me the chance to explain—”

            “What is there to explain?” Cygnus demanded, slamming his hand onto the table. “You tarnished this family’s image.”

            “I was drugged!”

            When only her own shallow, rapid breathing filled her ears after the words that had left her lips much more loudly than intended, Narcissa closed her eyes.

            “Someone put Amortentia in my drink,” she said much more quietly.

            A beat of silence passed, and then Druella scoffed.

            “What reason would anyone have to do something like that to you?” she asked, shaking her head. “Unless it was the Malfoy boy.”

            “Lucius wouldn’t do something like that,” Narcissa snapped. She immediately felt a surge of heat in her cheeks, and she was certain she’d turned red.

            “You will not use such a tone with us, young lady,” ordered Cygnus. “And as for the matter of the proposal, are we to understand that you accepted?”

            “I did.” Narcissa fought to keep her voice firm, though each moment she spent in her parents’ presence chipped away at her resolve and left her feeling slightly more ill. She watched as they exchanged glances, and at length, Cygnus sighed.

            “The match is one we can’t deny is advantageous,” he said. “After your mistake with the Rowle boy, we had little hope of another respectable family showing interest in you.”

            _His family has nothing to do with that interest,_ Narcissa thought, but she said nothing.

            “Therefore,” Cygnus continued, “we’ll allow it.”

            Narcissa’s heart missed a beat, and her eyes widened.

            “I can’t help but wonder,” said Druella, raising a brow as she turned in her chair to face her daughter more fully, “if there’s a reason you’re moving so quickly. Perhaps the indecency we heard about is not the only one in which you’ve participated.”

            It took every ounce of Narcissa’s willpower to avoid scowling at her mother or shouting or finding another way to let out the fury rising within her. _What have I ever done for them to lead them to always assume the worst of me?_

            “No, Mother,” she said firmly. “Nothing of that sort has happened, and the only reason we want this is that we love one another.”

            Druella rolled her eyes. “Of course you do,” she said scathingly. “Or you think you do. Tell me the same thing a year from now—or five—and perhaps I’ll consider believing it.”

            “He’s my soulmate.”

            The instant the words left her lips, Narcissa wanted to pull them back. Even though they were true, they would do nothing to improve her situation with her parents. Cygnus rolled his eyes, and Druella’s expression grew harder.

            “I’ve had enough of this foolishness,” said Druella sharply. “Go to your chambers.”

            Narcissa rose without a word and strode from the room, attempting to calm herself and steady her breathing as she moved farther away from her parents. Despite the insults and insinuations they’d tossed about, at least they hadn’t refused the idea of the engagement. If they’d decided to do so, Narcissa had already made her choice: she would leave, somehow, and escape their influence, and then she would go forward with marrying Lucius. Thankfully, it didn’t appear that she needed to go to such extreme measures. _Well,_ she thought bitterly, as she rested her hand on the wooden banister and started up the steps toward her room, _at least not yet._


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius discusses his engagement with his parents and learns the severity of his father's illness.

Lucius lifted the teacup to his lips, watching his mother over its rim. Seraphina sat on the chaise in Malfoy Manor’s drawing room, across from the seat Lucius occupied on the sofa. He had yet to bring up school or the more pressing news of which she was already aware: his engagement. From the looks she shot in his direction now and then and the smug upward twist of her lips, he gathered that her thoughts lay in a similar place.

            “Say whatever it is you’re dying to,” said Lucius at last.

            “I’m proud of you.”

            Lucius blinked. “For what?”

            “You know what you want out of life,” said Seraphina, “and you go straight for it. You’ve found your soulmate, and while a lot of people would be intimidated by an idea as grand as that, you’ve embraced it.”

            As Seraphina lifted her teacup, Lucius’s eyes were drawn to the silver image on the underside of her wrist. She paused in her motion, and Lucius glanced to his mother’s eyes to find her watching him. She lowered the cup and rested it on the small wooden table beside the chaise before extending her arm toward him across the space separating them, allowing him a better view.

            “Your father didn’t embrace the idea of our marks right away, you know.”

            As she spoke, he examined the image etched into her skin—a silver peacock, its tail feathers fanning out enough to follow the curve of her wrist and spread slightly onto its sides.

            “He told me it was all nonsense, at first,” Seraphina continued. “When he finally realized he loved me, I think it’s one of about three times I’ve ever heard him apologize.”

            Lucius chuckled, trying to imagine the young, love-struck boy he’d never seen or imagined his father could’ve been. He’d only ever known the stoic, determined man who had tried to mold his son in his image

            “Dare I ask what you two are discussing?”

            Lucius looked up at the sound of his father’s voice to find him standing on the threshold. The ease he’d begun to feel in the presence of his mother faded rapidly, a sickening wave of anxiety washing over him to take its place. Abraxas was pale, his somewhat-greying blond hair standing out against the pallor of his skin, which was marred every few inches by faded red splotches. The redness was concealed enough that Lucius knew his father had attempted to use glamours to hide the evidence of his illness, but the Dragon Pox had progressed to the point that the magic was no longer effective.

            When Abraxas raised a brow, Lucius realized he’d been silently staring for a few moments too long.

            “I have news, Father,” he said, sitting up straighter against the back of the sofa.

            “Do you?” Abraxas moved forward into the room and settled onto the chaise beside his wife. He crossed a leg over his knee and watched Lucius appraisingly.

            Lucius took in a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “I’ve asked Narcissa to marry me,” he said.

            For a moment, Abraxas watched his son silently, his eyes searching Lucius’s. “Did your marks appear?” he asked at last.

            Lucius glanced to his mother, who nodded, a smile playing on her lips.

            “Yes, they did,” he said. “She’s the one.”

            “And you’re sure you’re ready for something like this?” Abraxas pressed.

            “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

            Abraxas nodded. “Then we will support your decision. I think she’ll make a fine addition to the family.”

            Lucius let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank you,” he said, his tension beginning to ebb away.

            “I think we should celebrate.”

            Lucius glanced to his mother, raising a brow at her suggestion. Her enthusiasm was clear—which he appreciated, particularly when he’d been so uncertain of how his father would react to the news and he didn’t know how he would’ve approached the subject without his mother’s presence—but he wasn’t certain what she could be planning in the way of celebration.

            “We could host a ball,” Seraphina elaborated. She reached out to rest her hand on her husband’s knee and give it a squeeze, turning her head to look at him. “When was the last time you saw anyone for a purpose other than work? You need something positive to focus on, Abraxas.”

            With a sigh, Abraxas nodded. “Why don’t you go and start planning, Sera? I’m sure your sister will want to be involved. I need to speak with Lucius for a moment.”

            Lucius exchanged glances with his mother, part of him wanting to ask her to stay, though his pride instructed him to hold his silence. He would have to face his father alone sooner or later, and neither begging nor stalling could keep that from happening, no matter how unfortunate that was. Seraphina stood and lifted her skirt out of the way of her feet as she made her way from the room, and Lucius and Abraxas were left alone with the silence hanging in the air between them. At last, Lucius could stand it no longer.

            “What is it, Father?” he asked.

            Abraxas let out a long breath. “I suppose you’ve spoken with Bellatrix, yes?”

            Lucius’s eyes narrowed. “Unfortunately. Wait a moment—you knew what she was planning to tell me?”

            “Of course I did.” Abraxas scoffed. “I thought it would be better for you to hear what the Dark Lord wanted of you from someone of your own age—someone you’ll likely be fighting alongside, when the time comes.”

 _When the time comes,_ Lucius repeated mentally, _because you will no longer be here._

            “When does the Dark Lord want me to prove myself?” Lucius asked. His grey eyes locked on those of his father, and he knew they were both aware of what was really being asked. _How much time do you have left?_

            “As soon as possible,” said Abraxas flatly. His face was devoid of all emotion, and Lucius wondered how long someone had to contemplate his own demise to reach that state of detachment. How long had his father known that he wouldn’t survive this illness? How long had Lucius been deceived?

            “That’s not an answer.”

            Though Lucius normally wouldn’t have pressed his father, he was tired of being deliberately deprived of information regarding such an important matter. For a moment, Abraxas simply watched his son, and then the tension at the corners of his eyes softened slightly.

            “Likely before you return to school,” he said at last.

            Lucius felt as though the floor had been pulled out from under him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of Abraxas not surviving long enough to see his son complete his schooling, and he couldn’t begin to imagine ascending within the Death Eaters’ ranks so quickly to fill the new vacancy. A question burned on his tongue that he’d wanted to ask for years but had never before found the conviction to put into words. Now, he supposed, he had nothing to lose.

            “Do you ever regret joining him?”

            Abraxas frowned. “No. I’ve never regretted standing up for what I believe in for a second.”

            Lucius’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know when you joined that you were committing your family to his service forever?”

            “Lucius—” Abraxas’s voice was becoming firmer, but his son pressed onward, undeterred.

            “Didn’t you regret all of this even once, when you realized that I was going to have to complete your work? That I was going to have to kill someone—I have no idea who, so I just pray to the gods that it’s not someone I care about—before I’ve even graduated from Hogwarts?” Lucius stood, dropping his teacup rather unceremoniously onto the nearest table. “I’m not saying I would’ve chosen differently, if it had actually been my choice to make. I likely would’ve fought for him on my own. But to have _this—_ ” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark etched into his pale forearm. “—while I’m still in a school surrounded by people who could very easily see it if I happen to slip up and who could just as easily turn me in to Dumbledore or to the Ministry itself is ridiculous! You wanted me to be a Prefect. Look, Father—I’m Head Boy! Look—I’m captain of the Quidditch team! What the hell does any of it matter? What does it matter that I want to be Minister? You’ve always wanted all these things for me, or maybe it’s _from_ me, but why did I bother when I was just destined to become you no matter what I did?”

            Abraxas opened his mouth as though to reply and then shut it again, his jaw clenching.

            “And you know what the worst part is?” Lucius continued, taking a step toward his father. “You won’t even be around to see it, and you weren’t going to tell me that. If the Dark Lord hadn’t called me that day, I wouldn’t even know what was happening to you.”

            Lucius had seen more than his share of hateful acts inflicted on children by their parents, the majority of these from the Black family. He’d always believed he had a decent relationship with his own parents, and he felt positively betrayed by his father’s secrecy.

            Lucius let out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight,” he said, turning and striding out of the drawing room. His mind was buzzing with angry questions, accusations, and indignation, and though he already regretted snapping at his father, he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. He hadn’t wanted to let his frustration to get the best of him, but he’d meant every word. As he ascended the steps toward his chambers, he glanced at his exposed forearm once again, and he ripped his sleeve downward in disgust.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa tries to keep things from deteriorating when Lucius meets her parents.

Narcissa awoke to the sound of tapping against the glass of her bedroom window. She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up into a sitting position to look toward the noise, and she blinked in the sight of Lucius’s eagle owl perched on the sill. She tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, padding across the carpet toward the window and opening to allow the owl to move inside. Narcissa detached the letter from the foot of the bird, which hooted softly and watched her as she opened the envelope and pulled the letter free.

* * *

_My Dear Narcissa—_

            _My mother had a brilliant idea as to how we can celebrate our engagement, and I want to bring it up to you and to your parents in person. They’ve given me permission to stop by this afternoon. Please don’t worry—I promise to make the best impression I can._

_I look forward to seeing you._

_—Lucius x_

* * *

Narcissa stared down at the parchment, her heart thudding against her ribs. _He’s coming here?_ she thought. Her cheeks burned, her palms beginning to sweat. She didn’t doubt that Lucius was capable of making a decent impression with her parents, but the idea of trying to conceal the depth of her feelings for him to placate the two were doubted that she knew what love was highly unsettled her. She would have to remain vigilant and not give them reason to question or embarrass her while Lucius was present.

            She pulled fresh parchment from a drawer within her desk and wrote a reply, trying hard not to betray her anxiety about the situation.

* * *

 _Lucius_ —

_I’m sure you’ll make a fantastic impression; I’d sooner anticipate them making a poor one on you. I’m very glad to have the chance to see you, and I hope I can do so often over the holidays._

_Love,_

_Narcissa_

* * *

As she sat at the edge of the chaise in the drawing room, absently picking at the dark green threads beside fabric of her dress of a few shades lighter, Narcissa found it increasingly difficult to keep herself calm. Lucius would be arriving at any moment.

            _They wouldn’t possibly ruin this,_ she told herself, trying hard to believe it. _If only for the sake of our family name, they won’t want to make a bad first impression._ She knew Lucius had encountered her parents briefly in passing—a ‘hello’ at a ball, perhaps—but they’d never been around one another for long enough for him to experience the disasters that so often accompanied them.

            She heard the knock at the front door and the hurried footsteps of the elf as he hurried to answer it, and she rolled her shoulders backward and sat up a little straighter, ignoring the feeling of her parents’ gazes pressing in on her from the sofa. A few moments later, Lucius strode into the drawing room, a cool smile on his lips. Narcissa’s gaze swept over him, and she couldn’t help admiring how composed he looked in a set of dark-blue dress-robes she’d never seen him wear until now, his posture relaxed yet emanating an air of control.

            “Lord and Lady Black,” he greeted them, nodding respectfully to each in turn. When his grey eyes landed on Narcissa, she caught sight of a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. “Miss Black.” He stepped forward, and she rose from the chaise to curtsey for her parents’ benefit.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said, resisting the urge to smile, if just barely.

            She hadn’t anticipated that Lucius would reach for her hand, and when he took it in his own, Narcissa’s pulse accelerated. She watched as he drew her hand to his lips and gave its back a gentle kiss.

            “Please, have a seat,” said Cygnus flatly.

            “After you,” said Lucius, not removing his eyes from Narcissa’s. She settled onto the chaise once again, and he sat beside her, crossing his left leg over his right. Narcissa glanced to her parents to find both of them watching Lucius, Druella’s gaze calculating and Cygnus’s one of mild disbelief. Narcissa doubted they’d expected Lucius to sit so close to her.

            “What brings you here today, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Cygnus. “We certainly don’t object to the opportunity to socialize with your family, but we were a bit surprised when we received word from you instead of your father.”

            “My father sends his regards, as does my mother,” said Lucius smoothly. “It isn’t familial politics that I came to discuss, however, or at least not the kind pertaining to our entire families. It’s a more personal matter that I’d like to bring to your attention.”

            Narcissa watched her father closely, and the slight twist of his lips suggested that he was having difficulty holding back exactly what he thought of the ‘personal matter’ of the relationship between his daughter and Lucius.

            “My family would like to host a ball while Narcissa and I are home for the holidays in order to celebrate our engagement.”

            At Lucius’s words, Narcissa’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t completely hold back the smile that fought to slide onto her lips. She hadn’t yet had the chance to get to know Lucius’s mother, and she was thrilled that Lady Malfoy apparently approved of her strongly enough to make such a grand gesture. Narcissa knew it was far too early to tell for certain, but she had the feeling that she would enjoy life with Lucius’s family quite a bit more than life with her own, and she would, at the very least, be welcome with them.

            “Ah, yes,” said Cygnus, “your engagement. I’ll admit we were highly surprised to hear that things had progressed so quickly.”

            “I certainly hope it isn’t out of necessity.”

            Narcissa’s eyes flicked to her mother, who was watching Lucius with a raised brow.

            “Lady Black?” asked Lucius. Narcissa looked to him once again to find him frowning.

            “I’ll be plain, Mr. Malfoy,” Druella continued. “I believe my husband and I are still too young to be grandparents.”

            Narcissa’s stomach twisted, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from commenting on how ridiculous and insulting it was for her mother to make such an insinuation. Lucius’s carefully-constructed mask cracked, if only for a moment—his eyes widened, his frown deepening. He reached out to lay a hand on Narcissa’s knee, and she felt that he was trying to shield her in any way possible.

            “With all due respect, Lady Black,” he said, his tone slightly cooler than it had been a moment before, “I resent the implication. You needn’t worry about anything of the sort. Your daughter is a lady, and I respect her and her boundaries.”

            The fragments of what Narcissa recalled from her time under the influence of Amortentia flickered through her mind, and she tried not to focus on how much she’d enjoyed allowing the passion that wanted to break through each time Lucius’s lips met hers to surface. _Not even remotely the time to think about it,_ she mentally scolded herself.

            “We’re glad to hear it,” said Cygnus, nodding to Lucius. “We weren’t certain what it was that you were after, when we received word of how Narcissa had been behaving at school. Impropriety reflects very poorly on us, you know.”

            “Whatever you heard, I can attest that Narcissa has never behaved in a way less than befitting a lady. She was, unfortunately, given a heavy dose of an illegal love potion that took the choice from her hands for a few minutes, but I assure you that even then, nothing transpired that should worry you.”

            Cygnus let out a sigh. “That is troubling. We’d thought Narcissa fabricated the story about the love p—”

            “What reason would she possess to do something like that?” cut in Lucius. “It’s a terrible allegation to make against someone without reason.”

            _Please don’t argue with them,_ Narcissa begged him mentally, willing him to hear her. _Don’t give them reason to turn on you._

            “It is,” said Cygnus, his brows drawing together. Narcissa was certain that her father was trying to determine what to make of the young man who dared to question him. “She has quite a fanciful side, at times, you understand. For example, she’s convinced the two of you are ready to marry because you’re ‘soulmates.’”

            “Well, then, she’s correct,” Lucius drawled, the pretense of politeness beginning to fade more rapidly each time Cygnus spoke ill of his daughter. “Forgive me; you’ll have to take our word for it, as the place the magic chose to place the likeness of a patronus on each of us isn’t one I feel comfortable showing off in public.”

            Narcissa watched her mother’s eyes widen in unconcealed horror, and she was certain that if Druella had been drinking tea, she would’ve choked.

            “I happen to know that Narcissa’s patronus takes the form of a lioness, and one has appeared on _my mid-back._ ”

            Druella’s shoulders fell with the long breath she released, but it took several seconds for Narcissa to manage to draw another into her lungs, and she was certain that she’d gone scarlet. At the risk of allowing things to deteriorate further, she cleared her throat.

            “Father, Mother—would it be all right if I escorted Mr. Malfoy on a tour of the house?”

            “Supper will be ready shortly,” said Cygnus, glancing from Narcissa to Lucius to Druella and back again, his dark eyes cold.

            “It will be brief,” said Narcissa quickly.

            “I’m not certain how I feel about leaving the two of you alone.”

“Lord Black, you have my word that we will behave with the utmost dignity.”

            Cygnus stared at Lucius for a long moment, and Narcissa’s heart pounded in her ears. She doubted her father would believe them no matter what they said, and she half-expected him to deny the request on principle. When instead Cygnus nodded stiffly, Narcissa blinked, no longer entirely convinced that she wasn’t dreaming.

            “Be sure that you do, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, and Narcissa wondered whether she was the only one who heard the implied _‘Or else’_ following her father’s words. She also heard the _‘If not, we’ll know’_ that he left out of his comment, and she was reminded that her home was far from a safe place to show her affection. She watched Lucius nod and stand from the chaise, and when he held out his hand to her, she took it and followed him from the room without another glance at her parents.

            When they’d entered the corridor, Narcissa took charge, guiding Lucius swiftly around the next corner and out of earshot of the drawing room. As soon as she stopped walking, he turned to face her, resting one hand on her waist and the other beneath her chin to lift it gently as he leaned in to meet her lips. Narcissa’s stomach fluttered, her already-wild pulse quickening further as she kissed him back tenderly for a few moments before pulling back to meet his eyes.

            “What are you doing?” she breathed.

            “No matter what your father says, you’re observant enough to know the answer to that.”

            Narcissa sighed, shaking her head. “We can’t—not here. They’ll—”

            “Cissy, I don’t give a damn what they think. Please don’t take this personally, because it couldn’t be less of a reflection on you, but they’re dreadful. I’ve no idea how someone as wonderful as you came from the two of them.”

            Despite her agitation, Narcissa found herself smiling slightly at Lucius’s words. She paused to inhale deeply and gather her thoughts before trying to speak again.

            “Please, please don’t antagonize them. I don’t want to lose the chance to see you over the holidays.”

            Lucius sighed, running his thumb over Narcissa’s cheek. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “I just can’t stand the way they talk about you.”

            “You should hear them talk about Andromeda,” she muttered.

            Shaking his head, Lucius wrapped his arms around Narcissa and pulled her close. Her first instinct was to pull back, but she forced herself to try to relax—her parents were too proud to follow them out of the drawing room. _I shouldn’t be this paranoid,_ she thought.

            “How are you?” she asked, closing her eyes as she rested her head against Lucius’s shoulder. “How are things at home?”

            She felt him shrug. “Fine,” he said flatly.

            Narcissa frowned. “Lucius, please… tell me what’s happening.”

            He was silent for a long moment, and then she felt it against her chest when he drew a deep breath. “Father says he has quite a bit less time than I thought.”

            “How long?” Narcissa lifted her head to look at Lucius’s face, and the sight sent an agonizing pang through her chest. His pain was evident in his eyes, and he looked much more tired and worn than he had a few moments earlier; she noticed for the first time that dark circles ringed his eyes, and he was paler than normal.

            “He thinks he’ll be gone before we go back to school.”

            Narcissa opened her mouth to reply and then shut it again. Her heart ached, and she wished she had some idea of what to do to alleviate Lucius’s pain. She knew in theory that she couldn’t fix this problem; no matter how much she wanted to help him, she couldn’t cure Dragon Pox or extend Abraxas’s life. Still, though, she could ensure that Lucius knew he had her support in such a difficult time. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and stretched upward to meet his lips once more, letting hers linger against them for several moments before laying her head against his shoulder again.

            “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “If you ever want to talk—about any of it, the illness, just him—I would be more than happy to listen. I wish there was something I could do to fix this. But you will not have to go through it alone.”

            Narcissa felt the brush of Lucius’s fingers against her back as he rubbed it gently and the touch of his lips against her hair.

            “Thank you,” he said.

            “I love you,” said Narcissa, closing her eyes.

            “And I love you,” said Lucius. For several seconds, they stood still apart from the motion of his fingers as they moved across her back, and then he spoke again. “We should probably go find your family. Just know that I intend to get you out of here as soon as humanly possible.”

            “I look forward to being at home with you instead.” Narcissa looked up and winked at him, lowering her arms from around him and reaching out to take his hand and give it a pull in the direction of the drawing room.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius discusses the Blacks with Abraxas while waiting for Narcissa to arrive for supper.

Lucius had stayed at the Blacks’ for as long as he could manage without it being considered improper; he had no desire to leave Narcissa alone with her parents sooner than necessary, and he’d been relieved to finally have time with her that wouldn’t be interrupted by their classmates, observed though it had been by Cygnus and Druella from the moment supper had begun.  Before he’d left, he’d secured permission for her to visit his home the following day in order to be formally introduced to her future in-laws.  Lucius was certain that his parents’ presence was the only reason the visit was to be allowed, but he didn’t mind as long as it gave him and Narcissa the chance to see one another. 

            _At least my parents are likely to give us more than a few moments alone,_ he thought as he sat across from his father in the lounge, drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair as he awaited Narcissa’s arrival. 

            “Your mother says the visit with the Blacks was an interesting one,” said Abraxas over the rim of the glass he held.

            “That’s putting it lightly,” said Lucius, bitterness saturating his tone.  “I knew they were difficult, but I was still unprepared.  What kind of parent insults and belittles their child and accuses her of lying so easily? I thought perhaps they’d at least attempt to behave in front of company.”

            “What reason have they to behave?” Abraxas shrugged.  “They don’t plan to change, so they won’t bother pretending.  They see nothing wrong with the way they treat their children.  I’d like to tell you there’s hope for improvement, but I know that family, Lucius.  Cygnus Black is about as likely to start being kind to his daughters as I am to sprout wings.  He hasn’t been entirely secretive about his disciplinary habits in our circles.”

             Lucius frowned.  The words twisted something within him, and he found his disdain for Cygnus growing, which he hadn’t known was possible.  “What do you mean?”

            “It’s not my place to explain it to you,” said Abraxas.  “I’d suggest discussing it with your fiancée.”

            “Father,” Lucius began, his frown deepening, but Abraxas cut him off with a shake of his head.

            “Speak with Narcissa.”

            Lucius drew in a long breath and let it out again.  _I suppose she wouldn’t want us discussing her family’s secrets without her,_ he told himself in an attempt to let go of his frustration.  He found himself grateful that while he and his father had their differences, they weren’t the sort that made him loathe or fear being home.

            “I’m glad you and Mother don’t think we’re mad for moving quickly,” he said at last. 

            “When you’re certain about loving someone, no amount of time is going to change that.  I see no reason to waste more time than necessary, knowing what the two of you do.”

            Lucius began to relax slightly in his chair.  Though they still disagreed on other topics, he appreciated his father’s willingness to be reasonable about the matter of marriage. 

            “You should tell Cygnus and Druella that,” he said, his stomach turning at the memory of how Narcissa’s parents had reacted to the news.  “They admitted thinking we were rushing into this to cover up having a child.” When Abraxas raised a brow, Lucius rolled his eyes.  “Of course not, Father.  They don’t seem too fond of the idea of soulmates.  They don’t act like they believe it’s possible that we are.”

            “Well, Druella’s always been rather bitter.” Abraxas let out a flat laugh and shook his head.  “Don’t take it personally, Lucius.  She’s simply jealous.”

            Lucius raised a brow.  “Jealous?”

            Abraxas raised his glass to his lips and took a swig from his drink, and then he sighed.  “I remember when it happened.  It was in the middle of one of Dumbledore’s less interesting Transfiguration lectures, and Druella was sitting in the back of the room muttering with Thomas Rowle.  I tried to tune them out, but they got to arguing, and Dumbledore stopped speaking for a moment to tell them to quiet down.  I happened to look back to see Druella holding up Thomas’s sleeve and pointing to a mark on his forearm.  She had one in the same spot, you see.  They’d been sneaking about the castle, and I wasn’t entirely surprised by the idea that they were a match.  What did surprise me, though, was when Thomas left her for Hattie Blishwick.  It’s been decades, and I haven’t seen Druella wear sleeves short enough to let her mark be seen since.”

            Lucius stared at his father, his words stuck in his throat.  This had to be the source of the resentment Druella felt for the idea of her daughter’s happiness.  _She didn’t get to be with her soulmate, so why should Narcissa? Or Andromeda? Perhaps it wasn’t entirely that she ran off with a Mudblood—though I’m sure that hasn’t helped anyone.  And Druella was almost a…_

“Rowle,” Lucius blurted at last.  “Is that why she’s so determined to see Narcissa with Thorfinn? Is she trying to get closer to Thomas?”

            “I don’t pretend to understand what Druella is thinking.” Abraxas rolled his shoulders back and rested his glass against the arm of his chair.  “But I wouldn’t doubt it.”

            Lucius raised his hand to rub his temple, fighting hard to keep his thoughts in order.  The idea that Druella was attempting to live vicariously through Narcissa sickened him, as did the fact that she’d nearly succeeded.  He knew how it felt to be moved about like a piece on a chessboard, his choices stripped away by his duty to family, and he would not allow the one he loved to be trapped indefinitely in a home where she, too, was robbed of the chance for decision. 

            “I have to get her away from them, Father,” he said at last.  “I want to marry her soon.  She’ll be much safer here.”

            Abraxas watched his son closely, and Lucius held his father’s gaze, grey eyes fixed on grey.  After a moment, Abraxas heaved himself up from his chair, pausing to cough into his fist before turning away and carrying his now-empty glass toward the liquor cabinet. 

            “I told your mother I’d keep her safe,” he muttered, his voice so low Lucius wasn’t entirely certain he’d truly heard it.  He pulled open the door of the cabinet and produced a decanter of whiskey.  “I sincerely hope you have better luck with that than I have.” 

            Lucius watched his father’s back and the slump of his shoulders, more pronounced now than he’d ever seen it.  Abraxas Malfoy had never been one to show weakness, even—especially—to his family.  Lucius had always considered his father to be invincible, and the signs that the older man was fading by the day were growing more difficult to handle.  Lucius was still incredibly frustrated that his father had waited so long to admit the truth, but he fought this frustration back into a far corner of his mind and attempted to focus on the fact that their time together had not yet ended.  _Give him a chance, Lucius.  Just give him a chance._

            “How old were you when you used the Killing Curse for the first time?” he asked.

            Abraxas froze, his hand hovering a few inches above the decanter and his shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh.  “Older than you.  I’m not fond of the idea of you having to do it so soon, you know.  It’s not an easy thing to recover from.  It’s out of my hands, but if it weren’t…” Abraxas trailed off, and Lucius knew this was likely as close to an apology as he was going to receive.  Abraxas would not admit that he’d been wrong to allow his son to be dragged into the war.  Lucius believed his father’s conviction in his beliefs was the one thing holding Abraxas together.

            Before he had the chance to comment, Lucius heard the approach of voices, and he glanced to the doorway.  A moment later, his mother—positively beaming with excitement, her typical reservation when it came to making her emotions visible to guests nowhere to be found—crossed the threshold along with Narcissa, whose face brightened as her gaze met Lucius’s.  Her eyes seemed to come to life as he watched, and though his parents were present, he received the impression that Narcissa’s attention was his alone.  He wanted nothing more than to go somewhere they could speak privately and he could allow himself to relax in her presence, letting his guard down to a level he couldn’t achieve in front of anyone else.  Lucius stood from his chair and moved forward to take her hand and bring it to his lips. 

            “Miss Black,” he greeted her, smiling against her soft, pale skin. 

            “Lovely to see you, Mr. Malfoy,” said Narcissa, her lips turning upward. 

            “Welcome, Miss Black,” said Abraxas, standing and striding over to his son’s side.  “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you—I’m glad for the chance to finally speak with my future daughter-in-law.”

            Narcissa curtseyed, bowing her head respectfully.  “It’s an honor to be invited.  Lady Malfoy and I have just been discussing the ball, and I want you to know that I greatly appreciate your willingness to be so supportive of our engagement.”

            “Call me Sera,” said Lucius’s mother, reaching out to give Narcissa’s shoulder a squeeze.  “You’ll be part of the family, soon.”

            Warmth surged through Lucius as he watched Narcissa’s smile widen.  He was incredibly relieved that his family had taken so well to the idea and to her, and he allowed himself to believe, for the moment, that things were going to be fine. 

            “We’re very glad Lucius has you in his life,” said Abraxas, nodding.  He glanced at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner.  “I believe it’s time for supper, if everyone’s ready to move into the dining room.” He led the way into the corridor, linking arms with Seraphina as he passed her.  The two of them started down the hall, and Lucius closed the remaining distance between Narcissa and himself, leaning down to kiss her gently. 

            “It’s going to be fine,” he muttered against her lips. 

            “I hope you’re right,” she breathed. 

            “I’ve never seen Mother warm up to anyone this quickly.  It’s a very good sign.”  

            Lucius slipped his arm around Narcissa’s waist and guided her from the lounge, following his parents and feeling certain that this visit would, at least, be considerably less tense than the last. 


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa eats with Lucius and his family and then follows him to his room. (Warnings for mentions of [magical, Cygnus-related] abuse and for non-graphic nudity. A million thanks to my friend justforpractice on FFN for helping me write what follows in a way that’s hopefully still T-rated. [Read her work, she’s wonderful.])

“Tell us about yourself.  Please.”

            Narcissa looked to Lady Malfoy—Seraphina, _Sera,_ as she’d instructed Narcissa to call her—to find her smiling, her grey eyes kind.  While any form of question Narcissa received at her own table would’ve been a thinly-veiled attempt at probing her for useful information, she sensed no malice in her hostess’s address.  Sera seemed genuinely curious about her, and Narcissa appreciated the willingness of Lucius’s parents to treat her so warmly. 

            “There isn’t much to tell apart from what you already know,” said Narcissa, setting her fork down at the edge of her plate.  “I’m the youngest of my parents’ daughters, and I’m a year behind Lucius at Hogwarts.  I’m a Prefect.”

            “That’s all splendid,” said Sera with a nod, “but I mean about _you_ personally, dear, not about your credentials.  What are your interests?”

            “Oh.  Well… I enjoy reading and music.”

            “She has a beautiful singing voice,” said Lucius from beside her. 

            “I’m not sure I’d go that far,” said Narcissa, “but thank you.” She smiled at him, and she felt him rest his hand on her knee beneath the table and give it a reassuring squeeze. 

            “Do you play any instruments?” asked Sera.  Narcissa shook her head, and Sera glanced to her son.  “I’m sure Lucius would be willing to teach you the piano, if you’re ever so inclined.”

            “I’d love to,” said Lucius with a nod.

            “Sera,” said Abraxas, shaking his head, “let them eat.  My apologies, Miss Black—she gets carried away, at times.” He glanced to his wife, and the hint of a smile played on his lips. 

            “Thank you, Lord Malfoy, but it’s all right,” said Narcissa.  “I’m glad for the conversation.”

            She reached for her fork once again and resumed eating the pasta the Malfoys’ elf had prepared, and as the meal progressed, Narcissa found the tension she’d arrived with easing considerably.  She was certain that had quite a bit to do with Lucius’s touch—his hand remained on her knee for the duration of the meal, and his parents didn’t appear to notice, as he continued eating with the other—and the rather pleasant atmosphere.  When everyone had finished eating, Lucius excused himself and Narcissa from the table, and no one protested, much to Narcissa’s disbelief.  She was beginning to warm up to the idea of being at Malfoy Manor.  She was rather overwhelmed by the idea that his family was so much more welcoming than hers and hadn’t taken the opportunity of having her trapped at the table to question and belittle her, and the fact that they hadn’t minded allowing Lucius and Narcissa to leave to spend time alone was one she couldn’t process.  

            She followed Lucius through the ornately-decorated halls and to the second floor, and he opened a door that led into a bedroom.  Narcissa eyed the deep green blankets on the large, four-poster bed and the matching chaise seated in front of the currently-dormant hearth.  She glanced over bookshelves and found herself smiling at the sight of them and at the fact that she was being allowed—being trusted—to see all of this.  Narcissa’s heart pounded at the knowledge that she was actually here, standing in Lucius’s room.  He shut the door behind them, and she moved close to wrap her arms around him.

            “You were right,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder.  “This has been a very nice evening.  Thank you for letting me be here.”

            “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” said Lucius, sliding his arms around Narcissa’s thin frame and holding her close. 

            A few moments passed in silence, and Narcissa allowed herself to close her eyes. She was incredibly relieved that her worries for the evening had amounted to nothing and that they'd been able to enjoy themselves, and she was very glad to have the chance to spend a while alone with him. 

            “Cissy, I wanted to talk to you... about your parents...”

            Narcissa froze, doing her best not to tense.  “What about them?” she asked.

            Lucius drew back, removing his arms from around her and taking her hand instead to guide her to the chaise.  He sat and patted the spot next to him, and Narcissa took a seat at his side.  She drew a long breath in an attempt to steady herself for the discussion to come, and his arm encircled her waist once again. 

            “I want to know,” Lucius began again, his eyes fixed on Narcissa’s, “what you’re going home to.  What are they doing to you behind the walls of that house?”

            Narcissa let out a sigh, closing her eyes as she considered her answer.  “Nothing, right now.  Not other than what you saw—the constant arguing and making sure I know my worth essentially lies in how well I can marry.  I haven’t made them angry enough to do worse in a long time, but...” She hesitated for a moment, opening her eyes to look into his.  _Do I really want to admit all this? Why shouldn’t I? I’m going to marry Lucius.  He deserves to know what he’s getting into, doesn’t he?_ Her voice dropped in volume when she began again.  “My father has been known to use the Cruciatus Curse on me and on my sisters.”

            Lucius stared at her.  “How can he do that to you?” he demanded, his anger unconcealed in the sharpness of his gaze and the downward twist of his lips. 

            Narcissa tensed, regretting her admission.  _What’s the use in worrying him,_ she thought, _when it hasn’t happened in a very long time?_

            “He must be stopped. If he ever does that again, I'll—” Lucius shook his head and pulled her closer to him on the chaise.  “I’ll save you from him.  I’ll find a way.  I promise.”

            Narcissa leaned against him and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “Thank you.  I appreciate that more than I can tell you.  But please don’t bring trouble on yourself for me.  It’s all right as long as I don’t upset them.” She let out a sigh, knowing she had to sound completely absurd.

            “No, Cissy,” said Lucius, his tone firm but loving.  “It’s not okay.  It’s not.  How can you think—?” Lucius sighed, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, Cissy.” One hand at her back and the other shifting to rest on her shoulder, he pulled her closer.  He leaned in to touch his lips to hers briefly and then began pressing a series of kisses to every available inch of her face. 

            Narcissa’s heart ached at his words. She knew he was right—the way she'd been treated was unacceptable, no matter what she told herself, and at least he saw it.  She held onto him tightly and closed her eyes, savoring the touch of his lips on her skin.

            “How could someone hurt someone as magnificent as you?” he breathed against her jaw before trailing his lips downward to her neck.

            Tears bit at her eyes, and she fought to hold them back, but she knew she would be unsuccessful. _I’m not_ , she thought. She didn't want to hurt him with her self-doubt, however, so she breathed “Thank you” instead, sniffing, her hands reaching out to grip his shoulders tightly.  “You’re incredible.”

            “You’re incredible,” Lucius repeated, his breath warm against the skin of Narcissa’s throat, “and I hope you believe me when I say that.”

            “I’ll try to.  I promise, I will.”

            Lucius continued kissing downward.  He slowly unfastened her shirt and discarded it, followed by her bra, and Narcissa’s heart pounded as Lucius’s lips continued to cover each newly-exposed area of her skin, her breath becoming increasingly shallow.  Her flesh tingled beneath his lips.  She found herself highly excited by the idea of allowing this and seeing where he took them.  Eventually, Lucius pulled back, and Narcissa’s watched his face with wide eyes, wondering what he was thinking.  He smiled as his gaze swept over her.  The sight of the expression sent a wave of relief through her. 

            “I’d like to kiss you all over,” he said, “if you don’t mind.  I believe you should be shown the degree of affection you deserve.”  

            Her pulse racing, Narcissa rested her hand against Lucius’s cheek and caressed his skin softly with her thumb.  “I would love that.” She was thrilled by the idea that he wanted to continue kissing her and excited that he seemed to approve of what he saw.  Her nerves at the idea of going this far were fading rapidly.  This was Lucius, and she trusted him completely.

            Lucius smiled and shifted off the chaise to kneel in front of where Narcissa sat.  He unzipped her skirt and pulled it down until it reached the ground, followed by her undergarments.  Narcissa couldn’t stop her heart from pounding at a sickening rate as Lucius undressed her, and she watched his face, the urge to weep in relief overcoming her when his smile widened.  He resumed his kisses and trailed them along her body down to her toes and then upward again, muttering “I love you” as his lips drifted along her skin.  A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and she held still, trying hard not to protest that she didn't deserve all this and to focus only on how wonderful his lips felt against her.  Narcissa ran her fingers through Lucius’s hair and along his shoulders and back as he moved—she wanted him to know how deeply she appreciated his affection and willingness to show it.  When his lips reached hers once again, he let them linger there for a moment, retaking his seat beside her. 

            “Your parents have no idea what a beautiful individual they’re harming by treating you so harshly.  You deserve better.  You truly are beautiful, inside and out,” he breathed.  “Like a white rose: pure, elegant, delicate, and perfect in every way.” Lucius smiled once again, and Narcissa found herself smiling, as well.  That was truly how he saw her? She was overwhelmed by love and gratitude.  “My rose,” he continued after a moment.  “That will be my nickname for you.  What do you think?”

            “I love it.  And I love you.” Narcissa leaned close to bring her hands to his cheeks and meet his lips tenderly.  He let out a soft moan against her lips, and she shivered at the sound.  When Lucius pulled back and stood, beginning to remove his own clothing, excitement flooded through Narcissa.  Her eyes swept over him when he’d finished, and she smiled.  _Gods, he’s perfect.  I can’t believe this is happening.  I shouldn’t be allowing this.  I shouldn’t want this.  But I do, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let what I_ should _do dictate the rest of my life._

            “You’re absolutely breathtaking, my rose," he said as he stepped forward, holding out his hand to her.

            She reached out to take his hand, her cheeks burning slightly at his words.  “Thank you, my love.  And you are incredibly handsome.”

            Lucius smiled and helped Narcissa to her feet before sweeping her off of them.  He brought his hand to the back of her hair, pulling out the ribbon that held it there and securing it on his wrist before carrying her toward his bed.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius wants to persuade his parents to allow Narcissa to stay the night and potentially longer. [A/N: Thanks to my friend justforpractice on FFN for writing this chapter with me.]

Lucius lay still, watching Narcissa.  She was smiling, her eyes fixed on his and the rise and fall of her chest with her breath returning gradually to its normal rhythm.  The sheets were pulled up over her body as well as his, and her skin was flushed in the light of the lamps.

            He couldn’t believe they’d actually gone through with it.  He couldn’t deny that he’d thought many times about becoming one with her and what it would be like, but he hadn’t dared to hope that they would allow themselves to go this far anytime soon.  Lucius supposed they’d just gotten caught up in the moment and carried away—no, he knew this was true.  When he’d brought her upstairs, he hadn’t intended for this to happen, but when she’d told him about the horrors she’d endured at the hands of her parents, he’d been overcome by the need to show her that no matter what Cygnus and Druella tried to tell her to the contrary, she was loved. 

            Lucius reached out to rest his hand on Narcissa’s cheek and closed his eyes as he leaned in to meet her lips tenderly.  When he pulled back, he grinned at her.

            “I wonder if I could persuade my parents to let you stay the night,” he said.  “After they’re asleep, we could sneak you back in here.”

            Narcissa laughed under her breath, her cheeks starting to redden.  “I would love that, honestly,” she said.  “Do you think they could persuade my parents? I mean... Perhaps the meal ran late and they didn’t want to send me home in the dark?”

            Lucius’s grin faded as Narcissa spoke of her parents and he realized just how tight their hold was on her.  He wanted to set her free from them; he was absolutely determined to find a way.  He shook his head to clear it of the unwanted thoughts of her family and returned the smile to his lips.  “Why don’t we go and talk with Mother? I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

            Narcissa reached out to rest her hand on his cheek.  The twist of her lips was worried, and Lucius was certain she was mentally chastising herself for bringing up her parents. 

            “Yes,” she said, “that sounds like a good idea.  But please don’t worry about my family, right now.  I think yours is wonderful, and I’m very glad to have had the chance to meet them.”  She leaned close to touch her lips to his once more.  “And most especially to be here with you.  Thank you for all of this, Lucius. I’m so thrilled to have experienced it with you.”

            Lucius pressed a kiss to her nose.  “As am I, my rose.” He sat up and climbed out of bed, holding out a hand to her to help her to her feet. 

            “I suppose this means we’ll have to get dressed,” said Narcissa with a slight smile. 

            “As unfortunate as that is…” Lucius nodded and moved over the chaise to retrieve the clothing they’d left on the floor beside it.  He dressed quickly and passed Narcissa her clothes, and when she’d pulled on her blouse, he stepped closer to remove the space separating them and fastened her buttons one by one.  He realized her hair was still hanging loose down her back, and he looked down at the navy ribbon tied around his wrist.  As he brushed his fingers over the satin and began to fiddle with it, he returned his eyes to hers.  “I’d like to keep it, if you don’t mind.  I’d like something to remember our moment by—not that I could ever forget it.  It was unforgettable.  I just like the idea of looking down at your ribbon and thinking about this day and you.”  He smiled.  “I can give you one of mine to put in your hair, and you can keep it, if you’d like?”

            Narcissa nodded, smiling brightly.  “I’d like that very much.  I’d be honored to have you keep it.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “And I’d love to have one of yours—then I can have a piece of you with me all the time.”

            “Thank you.  I’ll cherish it always.” He slid his arm around her thin frame and pulled her close to his chest.  “Gods, I love you, Cissy.  All of you—every single bit.”

            “I love you so, so much.  I can’t describe how happy I am to be with you.”

            Lucius held her for several moments before pulling back to kiss her nose, and then he made his way over toward the vanity, where he grabbed her one of his favorite grey ribbons.  He walked back over to her and grabbed her wrist, sliding the ribbon onto it.  He watched her face as she stared down at the ribbon for a long moment and then returned her focus to him, lifting her hand to trail her fingertips over his cheek. 

            “Thank you,” she said.  “Now I’ll be able to look at it and always have reason to smile.”

             “Of course, my rose.” Lucius wrapped his arm around her and led her from his room and through the corridors to the drawing room where he knew his mother could typically be found at this time of the evening.  “Don’t worry,” he told Narcissa when they reached the door.  “She’ll agree.”

            Narcissa nodded.  “That’s wonderful.”

            Lucius could sense her apprehension—the set of her shoulders was tense, and her voice was soft—and he shifted his arm from around her to grasp her hand and give it a squeeze before knocking on the door. 

            “Come in,” called his mother’s voice from the other side. 

            Lucius opened the door and guided Narcissa into the drawing room.  His mother sat in a high-backed silver armchair beside the fire.  She raised a teacup to her lips and tipped it backward before lowering it to rest on her lap.  The grounds were dark outside the windows, and he wondered whether Narcissa’s idea to claim that it had simply been too late to send her home might indeed be viable.  He led her to the chaise proudly, holding onto her hand and remaining close by her side.  He’d hated having to put distance between them in front of her family, and he was incredibly relieved that such precautions were unnecessary in front of his own.  His mother had already made clear how sincerely she supported their relationship, and he planned to use that knowledge to the greatest extent possible.

“We’d like to speak with you, Mother,” he said as he and Narcissa sat.

            Seraphina watched them with a smile.  She raised one thin brow.  Her cheekbones were high and sharp and her jaw was square, and Lucius had come to recognize the calm dignity in her features at a young age. 

            “Certainly, love,” she said.  “About what?”

            Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself when he realized that what he wanted to say, he needed to discuss with Narcissa, first.  He leaned over toward her ear so he could whisper to her.  “Can I tell her… the truth—about your parents—? She won’t judge you, she’ll want to help.  I promise.” Lucius glanced to his mother, feeling apprehensive and ashamed for not discussing the matter more fully with Narcissa before entering the room. 

            Narcissa nodded.  “Go ahead,” she said quietly. 

            Lucius pulled her close to his side, knowing that he’d made her uncomfortable and hating that he’d managed to do so.  He kissed the top of her head and then looked to his mother.  “I was wondering if Narcissa could... stay the night, and possibly longer?” he asked, taking a moment to prepare his thoughts before telling her the truth.  “Cissy’s parents are awful to her, Mother, and I—I don’t want to send her back to them.” Lucius held onto Narcissa tighter, feeling that the tighter he held to her, the safer she would be.

            Seraphina frowned.  “Of course she’s welcome to stay.” She looked from Lucius to Narcissa.  “Is there something you want to talk about?” she asked.

Narcissa shrugged noncommittally.  “I don’t want to trouble you any more than I already am.”

“Nonsense.  You’re not troubling us at all," said Seraphina, shaking her head.

            Lucius reached out to rest his fingers beneath Narcissa’s chin and turn it toward him, looking into her wide blue eyes.  He leaned in and kissed her lips and then pulled back to meet her gaze once more.  He hoped to convey to her how sorry he was for not handling this better.  “It’s safe, here,” he said.  “You’re safe.” He kissed her nose and pecked her lips.

            “Thank you,” said Narcissa quietly.  She then looked to Seraphina and drew in a long breath.  “My parents aren’t the kindest of people by any stretch of the imagination.  They tried to have me marry Thorfinn Rowle, and when I messed that up, I was quite the disappointment.  They believe I’m at fault in essentially every situation, including one in which I was dosed with Amortentia.  I know I should’ve been more careful,” she added, glancing at Lucius.  “But still. Mother has a talent for cutting with her words and her threats, usually in the form of Howlers.  And it hasn’t happened recently, but the thing that has Lucius worried is my father’s tendency to favor the Cruciatus Curse as a form of punishment.”

            “That’s unacceptable.” Seraphina shook her head, her lips pressed into a tight line.

            Lucius let out a quiet sigh of relief, thankful for her support.  He’d always been able to count on his mother in times of trouble.

            “You don’t need to be subjected to any of that,” Seraphina continued.  “I may have to make sure your parents know how ridiculous it is.”

            “No, please,” said Narcissa quickly, “it'll only make things worse.”

            “Mother, could we figure out some way to... I don’t know, keep her here during the holidays?” asked Lucius.  “I don’t want her going back to them—they’re awful.  She’s an innocent; she doesn't deserve their hatred.”

            Seraphina paused for a few moments, appearing to consider as she glanced down at the teacup resting on her lap.  “I’m sure we can think of something,” she said with a nod when she returned her focus to her son.  “I’ll speak with your father, and we’ll find a way.”

            “Thank you,” said Narcissa.  “I appreciate that more than I can tell you.  Your family has been so kind to me, and I wish I knew how to repay you.”

            “If you’re with my son, dear, you’re a part of this family, too,” said Seraphina, smiling at her.

            Lucius gave Narcissa’s hand another squeeze and then stood, making his way over to where his mother sat.  He bent down to embrace her.  “Thank you, Mother,” he said happily, kissing her forehead and cheek.  “Thank you!” He pulled back to meet her eyes, hoping his own conveyed the love and gratitude her felt.

            “You’re welcome, love.  I’ll take care of everything.” Seraphina set her teacup on the table beside her chair and leaned up to kiss Lucius’s cheek, and then she stood and rolled her shoulders backward.  “I’ll go and find your father, and I’ll tell you what happens.  And Narcissa, please make yourself at home.  You are more than welcome here.”  She made her way to the door, pausing to squeeze Narcissa’s shoulder as she passed, and departed the room for the corridor.

            Narcissa looked to Lucius and let out a long breath.  “She’s wonderful.”

            “Yeah, she is,” he said.  “I knew she would help.  She’s been practically a mother to Walden since his Mother passed and his Father went to Azkaban.” Lucius made his way over toward the chaise, sitting down beside Narcissa and wrapping his arm around her.  He kissed her temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before leaning back against the cushions, pulling her gently with him.  “I’m sorry, Cissy,” he said.  “I should’ve talked to you, first, before bringing it up to her.  I worry about you so much.  I don’t like the idea of you going home to your parents.  It’s positively sickening.”

            “It’s all right.  I understand—if I knew you something like that was happening to you, I would do the same.  If I knew you were suffering...” Narcissa paused.  She reached out to rest her hand on his knee.  “How are things with your father?”

            Lucius sighed.  He looked down toward his lap and shrugged.  “Everything is… honestly, I don’t know,” he answered, returning his gaze to Narcissa.  He and Abraxas hadn’t spoken much about the news of the elder man’s illness—each time the subject arose, Lucius found it harder to conceal his frustration with the situation.  He felt incredibly helpless, which was something to which he was not accustomed.  He knew his father was already upset about the idea of leaving his family behind, and Lucius didn’t bring up the matter, as he didn’t want to make things worse.

            Narcissa nodded.  “Hey.  Listen to me, please.” She rested her hand on his cheek and guided his face down to bring his forehead to hers.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.  Please just know that whatever you need, I’m here.  I promise.”

            “You didn’t upset me, Narcissa,” said Lucius lovingly.  “But I’m very, very glad you’re here for me.  I hope things get better with him soon.”

            “I hope so, too.”

            Lucius pecked her lips and nose.  “I want to show you something.” He smiled excitedly, standing and holding out his hand to her.

            Narcissa stood, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw and then meeting his eyes.  “That sounds exciting.”

            Lucius used his grip on her hand to pull her close to his chest.  “It will be,” he replied.  “But first…” He grinned as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes and kissing her passionately.  Ever since they’d made love, Lucius had felt that his connection to her had grown, and he was finding it hard to keep his hands and lips away from her.  He wanted to experience more of her touch—he loved her so much, and now he knew her completely, and he never wanted to be without her.  She kissed him back, gripping and squeezing his shoulders, and he grinned against her lips, resting one hand on the small of her back and the other just below her shoulder blade.  “I can’t get enough,” he breathed between kisses.

            Narcissa pulled back just slightly to speak.  “I hope your father agrees to let me stay.  I want to spend quite a bit more time in your bed.”

            Lucius chucked playfully, feeling rather excited at the prospect.  He tugged harder on her lips and nibbled on her lower one before grudgingly drawing back.  He met her eyes and took her hand to guide her out of the drawing room and down the corridors past the innumerable paintings and family portraits lining the walls.  When they reached the doors to the ballroom, he led her inside and glanced up at the immense, vaulted ceiling and its white arches.  He looked to the rows of chairs in the corner and the instruments—primarily strings interspersed with a few small winds—situated upon them, awaiting players.  The French doors lining the back wall opened out onto the terrace overlooking the gardens, and were the sun still out, he would’ve had a mind to take her outside to walk through them. 

            “This is where the party will be,” he said, producing his wand and waving it toward each light and chandelier in the room to ignite them before returning the wand to his pocket. 

            Narcissa caught her breath.  “It’s incredible,” she said, and Lucius watched as she glanced from one ornate crystal chandelier to the next and then back to him.  “Absolutely beautiful.”

            Lucius smiled.  He stepped farther into the room, guiding Narcissa over the polished floor toward its center.  He pointed up toward the light fixtures.  “I remember when I was younger, I used to sneak down to the ballroom and have Dobby turn on the lights for me, and I would stare at the crystals and the light shining off of them for hours.”

            “I can see why.  They’re magnificent.  It would certainly be tempting to spend all one’s time in here.” The lights from above were reflected in Narcissa’s eyes as she spoke, and she gazed around the room in visible wonder. 

            “One day it will all be yours, as well,” said Lucius.  “You can come in here anytime you like and look at the magnificent lights.”  He glanced down at their joined hands and then back to her face.  “Would you care for a dance, Miss Black?”

            Narcissa squeezed his hand.  “I would be honored, Mr. Malfoy.”

            Lucius pulled her gently toward the very center of the ballroom before facing her and shifting his right hand to rest on her waist, a smile spread across his lips.  “Wonderful,” he said as he began to waltz.

            “Thank you for this,” said Narcissa as she followed him over the ballroom floor, holding tightly to his hand and to his shoulder.  “It’s perfect.”

            Lucius kept his focus on Narcissa as he continued to lead her in the waltz.  He couldn’t believe that he’d landed her—the woman of his dreams.  He loved all of her; he found everything about her to be perfect, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life reminding her of just that.

            Eventually, movement from the doorway caught his eye at the same moment the instruments came to life with a delicate, violin-led melody that matched the pace of Lucius’s and Narcissa’s steps.  He looked to the door to find his parents standing there, speaking in hushed voices.  Abraxas was lowering his wand, and Seraphina’s eyes appeared to be filled with tears, though it was difficult for Lucius to be certain, at his distance.  His father’s hand rested on the peacock etched into his mother’s wrist, and Lucius believed he had a decent idea as to what they’d been discussing.  He’d suspected that Seraphina was struggling greatly with the idea of losing her soulmate, though she avoided the subject as often as possible and refused to speak on it much when it did enter a conversation.  The sight of the pain behind the smile his mother gave him and Narcissa turned his stomach. 

            “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed that his parents had managed to catch him with his guard down and that he’d witnessed part of what appeared to have been an intimate moment between the two of them.

            “Nonsense, my boy,” said Abraxas, shaking his head.  “Finish your dance.”

            Lucius nodded toward his father.  “Yes, sir,” he said, turning his attention back to Narcissa, who was blushing.   _Don’t worry about them, right now,_ he told himself. _You’ll have plenty of time for that later.  Focus on her._ “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Narcissa Black.” He twirled her around a few times and continued leading her around the floor until the music stopped.  He then pressed his lips to hers.  “You’re my forever,” he said, pecking her nose before he drew back to look into her eyes.

            Narcissa gave his shoulder a squeeze.  “I’m very ready to spend the rest of my life with you.  I can’t imagine anything more wonderful.”

            He stepped back slightly to bow, and she curtseyed with a quiet laugh.  Lucius looked to the doorway once more at the sound of clapping, and he realized it was coming from his father.

            “That was beautiful,” said Abraxas.  “Absolutely beautiful.”

            Lucius grinned.  He enjoyed the idea that his father was allowing himself to loosen up somewhat, and a portion of the tension that had hung in the air between them since the news of Abraxas’s illness dissipated.  “Thank you, Father.” Lucius kissed the top of Narcissa’s head. 

            “No one at the ball will be able to take their eyes off the two of you,” said Seraphina.

            “Thank you again for agreeing to host it," said Narcissa.  “The ballroom is breathtaking—it’s going to be an unforgettable night.”

            “That it is, my rose,” said Lucius before looking to his parents.  “Mother, did you speak with Father?”

            Abraxas nodded.  “She did, son.  The two of us would like to talk with you.  Why don’t we have a conversation in my study?” He turned and guided them down the hall and over the threshold into the study, and when they arrived, he made his way over to the plush green armchair nearest the bookshelves along the wall and took a seat.  Lucius guided Narcissa over to the chaise, sitting down beside her and looking up to his parents eagerly.

            “We’ve sent an owl to the Blacks,” Seraphina began, her gaze shifting from Lucius to Narcissa and back as she smiled.  Lucius sat up straighter at these words and squeezed Narcissa’s hand tightly, hoping to convey that he was here for her and everything would be all right.  “We stated how very much we would benefit from Narcissa staying with us at least until after the ball,” Seraphina went on, “as she will be able to help me plan and I couldn’t possibly do it alone.”

            Relief washed over Lucius.  He knew his mother knew how to plan parties; she’d been hosting them for the entirety of Pureblood society since long before his birth.  It was all a cover-up to persuade the Blacks to allow Narcissa to stay.  Lucius nodded to his mother in thanks, and she inclined her head to him.

            “What do you think, my rose?” he asked Narcissa.

            “I think that sounds wonderful,” she said, looking from Lucius to his parents and back.  Her eyes were wide with relief and unhidden gratitude.  “Thank you so much.  I can’t even describe how much all of this means to me.  Is there any way I can begin to repay you?”

            Lucius shook his head, turning her chin with his fingers to face him.  He leaned forward and kissed her lips.  “Narcissa, you're family, now.  This is their gift to you.”

            “Family,” she repeated, smiling.  “I love the sound of that.”

 _As do I,_ thought Lucius.  _Very much._


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraxas takes Narcissa and Lucius to speak with the Minister.

Narcissa moved through the hallway alongside Lucius, their fingers intertwined.  He’d gotten permission from his parents to take her on a tour of the grounds, and Narcissa was thrilled to be able to explore what would eventually become her home. 

            “I can’t get over how wonderful they are,” she said, gesturing back toward the ballroom, where they’d left Abraxas and Seraphina.  _I’m not sure what I was expecting,_ she thought, _but this isn’t it._ She supposed she’d thought everyone’s parents were more like her own, though she knew rationally that the notion was ridiculous.  She looked to Lucius’s face to find him smiling.

            “They are…” Slowly, his smile fell away as his eyes swept over her face, and she supposed he’d followed her line of thought to the unspoken comparison.  He gave her hand a gentle pull forward and guided her through a door on the right and into a small closet.  Lucius leaned close to touch his lips to hers, and then he pulled back to speak.  “I—Narcissa, I don’t want you to ever have to question your worth because of your parents ever again.  I don’t want to return to school without you being my wife.  I want to take you away from the hell hole you’re forced to call home.  How do you feel about having a ceremony before the ball?”

            Narcissa’s pulse had accelerated with each word, and she couldn’t breathe.  She wanted more than anything to marry Lucius—to be able to start their lives together and move away from every difficulty they’d faced and the home she’d wanted to leave for as long as she could remember.  But could it really be that simple? Could they marry now simply because they wanted to be together?

            “I would love that,” she said.  “Nothing would make me happier than becoming your wife as soon as you’ll have me.  But won’t my family need to sign off on it?”

            Lucius let out a sigh, and his shoulders fell slightly.  Narcissa frowned.  She hadn’t meant to lessen his enthusiasm. 

            “Right,” he said.  “I didn’t think that far ahead.  Well, we could discuss possible options with my parents… I know they won’t be opposed to it.  You could quite possibly be emancipated from your parents.  Normally, it takes moths to do so—I know because of Walden—but thankfully, my father has connections in the Ministry that make the process go a lot faster.”

            Narcissa nodded.  She rested both of her hands on Lucius’s cheeks and leaned close to meet his lips.  “That sounds perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  I hope you know I mean it—I can’t even describe how happy it makes me to think that we’re going to be married.”

            Lucius’s smile returned.  “I can’t wait to be Mr. Narcissa.” He touched his lips to hers once again.  “I love you.”

            “That’s adorable,” said Narcissa with a laugh, her thumbs caressing his cheeks.  “I love you, and I can’t wait to be Mrs. Lucius.”

* * *

After bidding his parents goodnight, Narcissa snuck off to Lucius’s room, awaiting him while he spoke with his father.  When he joined her, she spent the night in his arms, and she enjoyed the chance to be with him too much to regret the small amount of sleep they received.  In the morning, Abraxas agreed to take them both to the Ministry, and as the group made its way toward the lifts, Narcissa leaned close to speak quietly to Lucius. 

            “I still think you’ll make a great Minister, one day,” she said. 

            Lucius smiled and kissed her forehead.  “I know you do,” he said.  “But I don’t believe it’s in the cards.”

            “Nonsense,” said Abraxas.  “Narcissa, you’re absolutely right.  I’ve always known he’d make a fine Minister.” Narcissa and nodded in agreement, brightening a bit at the knowledge that he thought Lucius well-suited for the job.

            “But Father… the other plans?”

            “Doesn’t mean you can’t be both.  In fact, one may benefit the other, one day.”

            Narcissa certainly knew what they were referring to by ‘the other plans,’ but she pushed the bitter thoughts of how she hated that Lucius was being subjected to a life of war from her mind and focused on the other portion of the conversation. “I’m glad you agree, Lord Malfoy,” she said.  She reached out to squeeze Lucius’s hand, hoping to reassure him.  She caught sight of the ribbon on his wrist and tried to hold back the smile that wanted to claim her lips.  She found her mind returning to the previous night, which she knew would live on in her memory as the most memorable and wonderful of her life.  When she looked to his face, though, Lucius’s brows were furrowed.  Apparently, Abraxas had noticed this, as well.

            “Son, your face looks as though you’re sucking on thousands of sour lemons.  What’s on your mind?”

            “I thought you didn’t believe I had what it took to be Minister?”

            Abraxas shook his head firmly.  “I never said that.  I was merely challenging you.  I wanted you to understand what it took to become something so grand.  I believe you can do anything, my boy.  And not just because you’re a Malfoy.”

            Warmth washed over Narcissa at the idea that Abraxas had such faith in his son.  Narcissa was firmly of the belief that Lucius was capable of absolutely anything, and she hoped he knew that.  “You can,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand with a smile.

            Lucius nodded toward his father and then smiled at Narcissa.  “Thank you, my rose,” he breathed.

            “You’re welcome, love,” Narcissa said quietly.

            She followed the others into the lift, and when its door closed, the lift began moving, carrying them to Level One.  When they arrived, Abraxas exited first and Lucius stepped out behind him, guiding Narcissa out of the lift and down a corridor that passed several administrative offices. 

            “If your sister works here, then her desk would be on this level, by the way,” whispered Lucius in Narcissa’s ear.  She’d told him that Andromeda had mentioned obtaining a job at the Ministry in one of the letters she’d received before leaving Hogwarts, and she hadn’t been able to ask as many follow-up questions on the matter as she’d hoped, as she was highly apprehensive about sending letters to Andromeda from home.  “The Department of Mysteries is on Level Nine,” Lucius continued, “but everyone’s workplaces are on level one.  My father’s friend is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which is on Level Two, and his office is actually on his level—he’s the only department head with that luxury.  These private offices here are for the Junior and Senior Undersecretaries for the Minister.  Up ahead is where your sister’s work space will be, along with several other Ministry workers who aren’t department heads or undersecretaries.  And the Minister’s is the largest. Today we’re heading there—she’s the one that will help us get what we need.  My father knows her along with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and several other important Ministry officials.”

            Narcissa glanced around at the offices as they passed, listening to Lucius’s explanation.  She nodded and tried to imagine working somewhere like this.  She found politics interesting but unappealing to partake in—she had enough of it to deal with in her daily life without adding it as a career.  Lucius had a talent for leadership, though, and she fully hoped he would pursue it.  She wouldn’t mind participating insofar as being there to help and advise him. 

            “I can’t wait to meet—” Narcissa broke off at the sight of two people she recognized exiting an office a little farther down the hallway.  Andromeda and Ted emerged from a door on the left, and Andromeda closed it behind them.  For a moment, Narcissa hoped her sister wouldn’t notice her approaching.  That hope lasted for only an instant, however, as Andromeda smiled at the sight of her sister and called out with a wave.

            “Cissy! What brings you here? Oh—hello, Lucius.  And Lord Malfoy.” Andromeda’s face fell slightly as her gaze lingered on Abraxas, and Narcissa hoped she was the only one who noticed the twist of her sister’s lips that suggested her distaste for the titles of the society she’d left behind.  She returned her sister’s wave, but she had trouble finding the words to explain why they’d come.

            “Nice to see you, Andi,” she said instead.  “Ted.” She inclined her head to him as he and Andromeda paused in front of where she stood with Lucius and Abraxas.  Narcissa felt Lucius’s arm wrap around her waist and pull her closer, and she could feel the tension in his muscles.

            “Miss Black,” he said flatly.

            “Narcissa... Lord Malfoy,” Ted greeted them, eyeing Abraxas up and down.  Narcissa tensed as Lucius and Ted refused to acknowledge one another.  After their meeting at The Three Broomsticks, she’d hoped they’d gotten past this, and she wondered whether Abraxas’s presence was responsible for this reversion.  She glanced to Abraxas, who ignored Ted and smiled politely at Andromeda, though he said nothing to her. 

            Narcissa found herself wishing she could be literally anywhere else.  She looked from one face to the next and realized she had no idea what to say to make this easier on anyone.  “We’re here to see the Minister,” she attempted after several moments of strained silence, looking to her sister.  

            “Oh? About what?” asked Andromeda, her smile appearing less genuine now than it had when she’d first spoken. 

            Narcissa looked to Lucius, wondering how much she was supposed to say.  He hesitated. 

            “If you’ll excuse us,” he said finally. 

            Ted took Andromeda by the arm and steered her away from the trio and down the hall toward the lifts.

            “Lucius, do you know that Mudblood?” asked Abraxas as he resumed his course, Lucius and Narcissa trailing behind him.

            “Father... Sir… I—”

            Narcissa’s cheeks burned, and she couldn’t imagine how deeply she had to be blushing.  “Only through my fault, sir,” she told Abraxas as they walked.  “Lucius accompanied me to Hogsmeade and had no idea that my sister’s husband would be there.” _Of course I had no idea that Lucius would be there, either,_ she thought, _but for the moment, that’s irrelevant._

            Abraxas turned his head toward Narcissa and nodded.  “And you keep in contact with the blood traitor?” he asked.

            Narcissa’s stomach twisted at Abraxas’s question, and her throat went dry as she attempted to think of an explanation for what she’d done.  She exchanged glances with Lucius, who was watching her with wide, apologetic eyes.  When he looked to his father, his expression shifted to one of greater composure. 

            “She doesn’t,” he said defensively.  “Andromeda is the one to place in the hot seat, Father.  Not Narcissa.”

            Narcissa felt the tension filling her body ease considerably, and she gave Lucius’s hand an appreciative squeeze.  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

            Abraxas raised his eyebrows and drew in a breath.  “I’m proud of you for standing up for the woman you love.  Good man.  Though I don’t want you socializing with anymore Mudbloods or blood traitors.  Do you understand?”

            Lucius blinked and nodded.  “Yes, Father.”

            “Good.  Now, are you ready to be emancipated, Miss Black?” Abraxas’s inflection grew more positive as he turned his attention to Narcissa.

            She couldn’t entirely rid herself of the panic that had filled her at his reaction to her sister and Ted, but when he spoke to her, she tried hard to focus on the present.  “Very ready, sir.  Thank you for bringing me to do it.  I owe you quite a lot for this.”

            “Wonderful,” said Abraxas.  “And nonsense, my dear.  You’re my son’s fiancée—you’re family, remember?”

            Narcissa nodded.  “I remember.  Thank you.”

            “Come along, then.”

            Narcissa followed the two of them into the Minister’s office, remaining as close to Lucius as she could as they walked. 

            “Abraxas,” said the tall, dark-haired woman at the desk in an enthusiastic tone.

            “Eugenia,” said Abraxas evenly in response. 

            “And Lucius, nice to see you again.”

            “Pleasure seeing you, Minister,” said Lucius. 

            “And who might you be, young lady?” asked the Minister.

            “Narcissa Black, ma’am.  I’m Lucius's fiancée.” Narcissa inclined her head respectfully.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            The Minister smiled.  “Eugenia Jenkins.  It’s very lovely to meet you, Miss Black.”  Jenkins turned her attention to Abraxas.  “What can I do for you, Malfoy?” she asked.

            “I’ve brought Miss Black along today because she wishes to be emancipated from her parents,” said Abraxas. 

            “Ah, of course.” Jenkins glanced to Narcissa with a knowing expression before returning her focus to Abraxas.  “Normally, it takes weeks to get this done.  But for one of my closet friends and benefactors, I don’t mind putting in a fast order.” She made her way over to a cabinet in the corner and sifted through one of the drawers, and after a few moments, she pulled out a stack of papers.  When she returned to the desk and leaned against its front, she handed Narcissa the papers with a smile.  “And anyone who is a friend of the Malfoys is a friend of mine, Miss Black.  What you’ll need to do is fill these out—you may do it here if you’d like, or you may take them home and have Abraxas return them to me—and once you do, I will personally see that it is taken care of.  You can be emancipated by Christmastime, I’d say.”

            Narcissa gave Minister Jenkins an appreciative smile.  She was fascinated by how easily Abraxas got what he’d come for, and the idea that she was joining a family with so much influence and so many connections was as appealing as it was overwhelming.  She imagined how wonderful it would be to be able to eliminate deadlines and waiting periods with a word and having someone as powerful as the Minister for Magic be willing to bend and change the rules at her request.  After spending so long without choices and being told her desires fell below those of everyone else in her household in priority, this change was more than welcome.

            “Thank you, ma’am,” she said.  The idea that she would be free by Christmastime was more wonderful than she’d anticipated, and her stomach fluttered with excitement.  She glanced to Lucius and then to Abraxas, trying hard to keep herself calm. 

            “I believe we’ll take the papers home,” said Abraxas, smiling.  “Thank you, Eugenia.  We’ll owl them into you.  How does that sound?”

            Minister Jenkins nodded and smiled.  “Certainly.  Always a pleasure, Abraxas,” she said politely.

            “Of course,” said Abraxas.

            Lucius and Narcissa said their goodbyes in turn.  Jenkins waved to them as they followed Abraxas out of the office, and she shut the door behind them.  Narcissa followed Lucius and Abraxas back into the hall and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as she looked down at the papers.  _This is it,_ she thought.  _This is what I’ve been waiting for, and it’s happening._

            “A lesson for you, son: never give too much of yourself away,” said Abraxas.  “Take note of how I said we’d owl her papers in.  You don’t ever want to be a doormat.  We’re thankful for Eugenia’s generosity and help, and sending it in shows her that we’re very busy and have little time to be stopping by.  If I didn’t do that, everyone would be asking me for donations and such all the time.  It’s a system, my boy.”

            Narcissa watched Lucius’s face as his father spoke, and she noticed when he gulped.

            “Yes, sir,” he said.  He shifted his attention to Narcissa and squeezed her hand.  “I’m so excited,” he whispered to her.  “Another step closer to being Mr. Narcissa.”

            She returned the squeeze of his hand and smiled at his words, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek quickly, trying to be discreet.  “It’s wonderful.  I can’t wait for everyone to know how much I love you.”


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius receives an unexpected visitor.

Lucius lay in bed beside Narcissa, his lips on hers and his arm encircling her thin frame as his hand rested on the middle of her back.  “I love you,” he breathed in between his kisses.  “So much.”

            “I love you,” said Narcissa, pulling him closer with her hand at his shoulder.

            He started to roll on top of her, but he froze when he heard a knock on the door.

            “Lucius, you have a very important visitor downstairs in the study.  I need you to get up and get ready immediately.”

            Lucius’s heart pounded.   _An important visitor at this hour of the morning? One that requires my attention ‘immediately’?_ He gulped.  The Dark Lord was here; his father had told him that their master often showed up whenever he pleased to test their loyalty to him.  _Wonderful.  Oh gods, Narcissa._

            “All right, Father,” said Lucius as he sat up, letting the sheets fall from his body.  “I’ll be down in your study in just a minute.”

            “Hurry,” grunted Abraxas.

            Lucius sighed, hating that his father often became a different, grumpier man when the Dark Lord was nearby.  Lucius waited to hear his father’s footsteps depart from outside the door before turning to Narcissa.  Her eyes were wide, her brows raised.

            “We must get dressed,” he said, “and I want you to remain hidden.  He’s here—the Dark Lord—and I—I don’t want him around you.” Lucius leaned forward and kissed her lips.  “I love you,” he whispered.

            “I love you.  It’s going to be all right.” Narcissa reached out and squeezed his hand. 

            Lucius nodded, stood from the bed, and made his way into the closet, getting dressed and ready as quickly as possible.  When he felt arms embrace him from behind, he jumped. 

            “I’m going to go back to my room and get dressed.  I’ll make sure he doesn’t see me.”

            Lucius quickly relaxed and let out a sigh of relief as Narcissa leaned around to kiss his cheek.  He turned toward her, wrapping his arms tightly around her—she’d slipped on her nightgown when he hadn’t been watching—and burying his face in her neck.  He felt one of her hands rest against his back and the other slip into his hair.

            “I’m sorry... I get rather jumpy when I know he’s here.” Lucius kissed her skin a few times before drawing back to look her in the eyes.  “Thank you.  I will feel much better knowing that I don’t have to worry that you’re safe.”

            “I understand,” said Narcissa.  “But are you going to be all right? Do you know what he wants from you?”

            Lucius shook his head.  “No, I don’t know.  Narcissa, I have to go.  I love you.  Stay out of sight.” Lucius had never flashed a more serious look her way as the one he wore now, and he hoped she gathered from it the severity of the situation. 

            She nodded.  “I promise.  Be careful, please,” she said quietly.

            He kissed her lips and stepped out of the closet, making his way downstairs to his father’s study.  He paused outside the door for the span of a heartbeat and then knocked, his heart pounding in his ears.

            “Lucius, come in,” said the Dark Lord’s voice from the other side.

            Lucius took in a long breath and let it out quietly before making his way inside.  “My Lord,” he said, bowing slightly.  The Dark Lord stood at the center of the room, and Abraxas was seated in the armchair beside the fireplace.

            “I have a task for you—ahh, we have a visitor.  Lucius, open the door and see who’s on the other side.”

            Lucius did his best to keep his alarm hidden.  He nodded toward his master.  “Yes, my Lord.”  He turned on his heels and made his way to the door.

            When he opened it, his eyes widened with fear, panic, and anger at the sight of Narcissa standing just outside in the corridor.  He didn't say a word, however.  Instead, he stood aside and gave her room to enter.  How could she do this to him? To herself? She wasn’t safe any longer.  What if the Dark Lord did—? What if he made Lucius do something—?

            Lucius gulped before turning to face his master and his father, who looked absolutely livid.  Lucius knew that he and Narcissa both—if they made it out of the study—were going to be in huge trouble after the Dark Lord left.  He glanced to Narcissa in time to see her lower her head.  He could tell she was extremely ashamed, and he wanted so badly to hold her close to him, but he couldn’t shake the anger he was feeling toward her for not trusting him.

            “What is your name, child?” asked the Dark Lord as he eyed Narcissa up and down before looking her straight in the eyes.  Lucius’s fists clenched.  He wanted so badly to protect her from his master’s stare, but he knew that he couldn’t.

            “Narcissa Black, s—My Lord.” Her tone was even and polite, and Lucius wondered how hard she was working to keep it that way.

            The Dark Lord’s smile did not vanish.  “Black, is it? As in Bellatrix Black?”

            Narcissa nodded.  Lucius saw her hands trembling at her sides. 

            “Yes, My Lord,” she said.  “She’s my sister.”

            The Dark Lord nodded and returned his attention to Lucius.  “I have a task for you,” he said.

            Lucius did his best to keep his expression even, and it took him a moment too long to find words.  His master’s dark eyes glittered with excitement at his obvious apprehension.

            “What can I do for you, My Lord?” Lucius asked.

            “Before I allow you the honor of officially joining my ranks, I want to be sure that you truly have what it takes and are prepared to remain loyal to me at all cost.”

            Lucius’s anxiety rose by the moment.   _What does he want me to do to prove that loyalty?_ He glanced from his father to Narcissa and then returned his focus to the Dark Lord, who continued.

            “And therefore, I have a test for you.  I would like to see you use the Cruciatus Curse on someone close to you, while someone else—the woman I’m quite positive you have more than a friendship with—watches.  Let her see the true man she’s going to marry.”

            Lucius stared straight into the Dark Lord's eyes.  Use the Cruciatus Curse on his father...? In front of Narcissa? Was he—?

            “I’m very serious, my boy.  You do know that I am proficient in Legilimency, which makes your thoughts quite easy for me to access, correct?”

            Lucius gulped again, this time not even bothering to hide it.  He turned toward his father—the man he looked up to and respected—and was certain his own fear was fully apparent in his expression. “I—”

            “Do it, Lucius.  Do what he says,” grunted Abraxas, who gripped the arms of his chair firmly.

            “I’d listen to your father, boy,” said the Dark Lord smoothly.  “Don’t fight the curse, Abraxas.  I want him to get a good idea of how much pain a person will be in.” Lucius fought the tears that were bottling up in his eyes.  He’d already attempted the curse when he and the others in training for the Dark Lord’s cause had been instructed to test it out on one another.  He knew the Dark Lord was aware that he was capable of casting it; this was a test of his loyalty alone. 

            Lucius forced in a breath and produced his wand, pointing it at his father.  He closed his eyes.

            “Do it!” ordered the Dark Lord.  

            Lucius opened his eyes and flicked his wrist.  “ _Crucio!_ ”

            A jet of light shot from his wand struck Abraxas, who cried out in what sounded like pure agony—he was obviously obeying the Dark Lord and not fighting the curse that Lucius knew his father had been trained to fight.

            The Dark Lord laughed, and the sound turned Lucius’s stomach.

            “Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful.  Don’t stop yet.”

            A few of Lucius’s tears had begun to slide down his cheeks, but forced himself to remain strong and focus on inflicting the curse.  He had no wish to harm his father, but he knew something much worse would happen to all of them if he didn’t.

            After a few moments, the Dark Lord spoke again.  “Lovely for you to join us, Sera.”

            Lucius’s eyes widened, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that his mother had entered.  Her arms were wrapped around Narcissa, whom she had stationed herself in front of, placing herself closer to the Dark Lord.  Lucius’s shame multiplied a hundred fold at the sight.  He wanted to apologize to his mother, but he feared how the Dark Lord would react if he attempted to do anything other than follow orders. 

            Finally, after several long and agonizing minutes, the Dark Lord raised his hand.

            “That’s enough,” he said.

            Lucius quickly lowered his wand, and Abraxas relaxed and leaned forward in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.  Lucius didn’t move.  He was simply waiting for his master to leave.

            “Sera,” the Dark Lord continued, “you should be proud of the son you’ve raised.  He’s going to end up a better warrior than his father.”

            “I am proud,” said Seraphina quietly. 

            Lucius’s heart sank and beat more rapidly, and as soon as the Dark Lord departed, he exited the room without a word to anyone.  He made his way to his chambers and slammed the door behind him, leaning back against it heavily. 

 _Why did the Dark Lord put me through that?_ Lucius hadn’t wanted to harm his father, but he’d known that if he hadn’t, his master likely would’ve caused Abraxas permanent damage or sped up the process of his demise.  Refusing hadn’t been an option.  _You’re not evil,_ Lucius reminded himself. 

            After several moments of silence, he felt the vibrations of a soft knock on the door behind him. 

            “Lucius?”

            He sighed.

            “Go away, Narcissa,” he said solemnly.  He hated himself for telling her to leave, but he didn’t know what else to say.  He was ashamed and filled with anger at the situation that had been forced upon him, and he didn’t want to show her that side of him.   

            “No,” said Narcissa firmly from the other side of the door.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I’m sorry—I had no idea what he was going to do, and that’s why I couldn’t just sit up here and pretend everything was fine when he could’ve been hurting you.  I’m sorry I didn’t stay upstairs.  I couldn’t—I couldn’t just hide when you had to face him.  I tried to stay out of sight, and I didn’t make a sound.  He only knew I was in the corridor because he was in my thoughts.” As she spoke, she didn’t entirely manage to conceal the sounds of her weeping, and the sound twisted the knife deeper into his heart.

            Lucius rested his head against the door and pursed his lips, trying to stop his own tears from continuing.  He worked hard to fight past his pride and open the door.  He turned around and opened the door and gently pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her.  He kissed her hair, closed his eyes, and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

            “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said.  “I was so afraid, Cissy.” The moment he admitted his fear, he could no longer hold back a sob.  He felt Narcissa’s arms wind around him and hold to him tightly, and he knew she must feel his trembling.

            “I’m fine,” she assured him.  “I’m so sorry he put you through that.  You didn’t deserve any of it.”

            Lucius kissed her hair and remained silent for a moment.  Now that he was certain of her safety, he found the anger he’d blocked seeping back into this thoughts.  He fought to keep it at bay, but at last, the words burst forth.  

            “You promised you would stay away,” he said.  “Why did you break your promise? Why did you do that to me?” It took everything within him to pull away, but he did, and he made his way over to his bed.  He sat down and buried his head in his hands.

            “I thought I was far enough away that he wouldn’t notice me—I didn’t realize he was in my head, or else I wouldn’t have been that close.  But like I said, I couldn’t just sit here and let him hurt you.  I had to do something.  I had to be close enough to know what was happening and if you needed help.”

            Lucius looked up at her.  She was leaning against the doorframe, her eyes closed and her lips pressed into a thin line. 

            “Narcissa, you couldn’t help me with him even if you wanted to.  He’s the Dark Lord—my own father wouldn’t stand up to him, and he’s trained.  I would’ve been fine.  I never wanted you to be exposed to his world.  And maybe that’s selfish, but you aren’t like the other girls our age.  You have this air about you that I don’t want tainted due to the Dark Lord.” Lucius lay back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.  After a brief pause, he felt the shifting from his right indicating that Narcissa had sat down at the edge of the bed. 

            “I’d be exposed to it no matter what either of us wanted,” she said.  “You heard him talk to your mother, and she’s not working for him.  Regardless of whether he knew about me now or after we’re married, he would know eventually, and if he can show up in our house whenever he likes, I’ll have to see him.  Isn’t it better that I find out now what I’m going to need to be prepared for? If I hadn’t seen that, I might’ve... I don’t know, not realized exactly how carefully I need to tread around him in the future when you’ve fully joined him.”

            Lucius knew she was right.  She needed to know what was happening in order to fully understand why it was important to stay away from the Dark Lord.  Lucius sighed once more, thinking about his mother and all that she’d had to witness.  He was unprepared for that life to be forced upon Narcissa, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. 

            He sat up and scooted across the bed to straddle her from behind, pulling her close to his chest and turning her chin to face him.  He leaned close to meet her lips and slipped his fingers through hers.

            “I love you,” he said.  “I just worry so much for you... all the time.  And I hate that you had to witness—” Lucius broke off and buried his face in the hollow of her neck, closing his eyes.

            “I love you,” said Narcissa.  “I know you worry, and I appreciate it.  I’m scared to leave you alone with someone like that.” Lucius felt her lean her head against his and stroke the backs of his hands with her thumbs.  “No matter what I see, it won’t change the way I feel about you.  Ever.”

            “Thank you, my rose,” Lucius whispered.  “I love you very much.” He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers. 


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa devises a plan to cheer up Lucius after the ordeal with the Dark Lord.

After returning to her designated quarters to dress the next morning, Narcissa made her way back to Lucius’s room and knocked on the door, unable to stop herself from smiling and bouncing on her feet as she thought about what she planned to ask him.  She’d made sure to stay close to him for the remainder of the evening after what had transpired with his father, and she’d spent quite a bit of time considering what she could do today to take his mind off the troubles that had been plaguing him.  She’d pulled on one of her warmest white jumpers over her shirt in preparation for facing the bitter winds.

            A few moments passed, and when she heard the doorknob turn, excitement shot through her.  The door opened, and Lucius stood smiling just beyond it, wearing heavy winter boots and a black jacket over his jumper.  Narcissa’s smile widened at the sight of him, and she leaned up to peck his lips.  She severely hoped he enjoyed what she had planned.

            “Hello there, my love.  Are you ready for an adventure?”

            Lucius nodded.  “Yes, I am.  Where are we off to?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

            Narcissa reached out to squeeze his hand and give him a playful pull.  Lucius chuckled, stumbling slightly toward her.

            “How does Hogsmeade sound?” she asked as they started down the hallway.  “I think it’ll be a lot more fun without a lot of students running about.”

            “I’d like that very much,” said Lucius.  “But first...” He used the grip he had on her hand to draw her into his chest, and Narcissa caught her breath.  Lucius placed his hand on her cheek and caressed her skin softly.  “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.” He leaned in to touch his lips to hers.  “I love you.”

            “I love you,” said Narcissa, resting her hand against his chest, “and I’m happy to do anything I can to make things better for you.  You deserve a lot better than having your holiday ruined by... him.”

            Lucius smiled.  “Thank you, my rose,” he whispered.  He returned his hand to hers and guided her downstairs.  “To Hogsmeade, we go,” he said.  “We'll use the Floo connection in the drawing room, seeing as my father is probably in the study and we still haven’t talked to him.  He’s not going to be too happy with us.”

            Narcissa’s eyes widened as she recalled that they needed to speak with Abraxas.  She could only hope he was less angry today than the previous evening and do her best not to think about what would happen when they returned.  “That's going to be... interesting.”

            She followed Lucius to collect their traveling cloaks from a downstairs closet, and then they moved into the drawing room and to the fireplace.  He grabbed the Floo powder from above the mantel and stepped inside, and Narcissa scooted closer to him, watching as he threw the powder to their feet.

            “The Three Broomsticks,” he said clearly, and immediately, they were swept up by the emerald green flames. 

            When they emerged in the pub and stepped out of the fireplace, Narcissa looked up at Lucius.

            “What do you think about Honeydukes?”

            Lucius squeezed Narcissa’s hand tightly as they strode forward and out of the pub.  “I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he said. 

            Narcissa smiled, relieved by the happiness apparent in her fiancé’s voice.  “Thank you.  I'm glad.” She leaned up to peck his cheek and continued down the street, pausing to look at the brightly colored window displays when they reached the shop.  She took in the sight of every type of taffy, chocolate, jelly bean, and gummy object she could imagine, and she realized it had been quite a long time since she’d allowed herself to indulge in this sort of thing.  “Hmm... I may have to rein in my love of chocolate.” She laughed softly.

            Lucius shook his head.  “Nonsense, you will have whatever your heart desires.  My treat, my rose.”  

            Narcissa’s eyes widened at his offer, and she squeezed his hand tightly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “Thank you. I appreciate that greatly.” She followed him into the shop. 

            Excitement spread over Lucius’s face when his gaze landed on the display featuring Jelly Slugs.  “My favorite!” he exclaimed.  His face burned bright red, and he turned toward Narcissa, looking rather sheepish.  “Sorry.  I have sort of a love for the sour ones.”

            Narcissa smiled and shook her head.  “Don’t apologize, darling.  I’m glad you found them.  You should get some.” She adored his enthusiasm, and she was flattered that he’d allowed her to see it. 

            Smiling, Lucius made his way over to the chocolates, guiding her along with him.  “What would you like?” he asked.

            Narcissa glanced over the shelves.  “I’m partial to the Fudge Flies... oh, there’s Chocolate Cauldrons, as well...” She contemplated for a moment and then reached for a package of the Fudge Flies.

            “Why pick one,” Lucius began, grabbing the Chocolate Cauldrons, “when you can have them both?” He kissed her temple.  He held on to the box of chocolates and reached out toward her.  “Let me hold those for you,” he said kindly.

            “Thank you.” Narcissa passed him the package of Fudge Flies and leaned up to kiss his lips tenderly, hoping he knew how greatly she appreciated his kindness.  “I love you.”  

            “I love you,” he said softly.

            She reached up to caress his cheek and then leaned back to meet his eyes.  “We could split a box of Bertie Bott’s, if you like.  Try our luck.  I’ve gotten decent at picking out the edible flavors.” She laughed.

            Lucius nodded.  “Oh really?” he answered playfully.  “I’d love to see you demonstrate your skill.”

            Narcissa grinned at Lucius’s challenge.  “I can certainly do that.” She winked.

            She followed him as he moved among the shelves and watched as he grabbed a box of the beans and then eyed the shelf of Jelly Slugs.  He picked up a box that was labeled, “ _New! Now with a sour flavor!_ ”

            “You know,” said Lucius, “they’ve had these ever since I was nine.  You’d think after eight years they’d remove the ‘new’ label.” Lucius smiled down at the box.  “These are my favorite sweets.”

            “Are they? You should stock up on them, then.  I’ll help you find somewhere to hide them so that no one notices.” Narcissa watched him with a smile, enjoying every moment of his enthusiasm.   

            Lucius looked to her gleefully.  “Really? You’d help me hide them?” he asked, seemingly astonished that she supported this. 

            Narcissa nodded, her stomach fluttering at Lucius’s excitement.  She was positively elated that her plan to cheer him up appeared to be working.  “I’d be happy to.  I’m your accomplice for life, remember?” She winked at him.

            “I remember,” he said with a smile.  “Well, in that case...” Lucius grabbed a few more boxes.  “Do you reckon we ought to get some fudge while we’re here? They do make the best.”

            “Wonderful idea, and they truly do.  I have quite a weakness for it.” Narcissa looped her arm through his, careful not to move too quickly and jostle the sweets he carried, and pulled him gently toward the fudge.  When they reached the case, she watched his face, and he surveyed the array of shades of brown, tan, and white filling the display before turning to smile at her. 

            “What would you like?”

            Narcissa paused to consider as she surveyed the options behind the glass.  “The salted caramel is delicious.  Have you tried it?”

            Lucius shook his head.  “I have not.  We’ll have to get some.  What about the chocolate flavor?” he asked.

            “It’s the best.  I’ll never say no to that.” She was trying hard not to get carried away with pointing things out, as she didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity.  Still, she found it hard to contain herself when he was so excited.

            Lucius nodded, placing all the candy they’d chosen on the counter for the clerk to ring up and asking for the fudges she wanted.  Narcissa watched her fiancé lovingly.  For what must’ve been the thousandth time already, she found herself incredibly grateful to have him.  When the clerk had finished preparing and packaging everything, Lucius grabbed the bag from the counter and then turned to Narcissa.

            “Where to next?” he asked.

            She looped her arm through his and guided him toward the door.  “It’s a surprise.” She smiled at him mischievously and pushed open the door, starting out into the street.  She looked up at Lucius to find him grinning widely. 

            “All right,” he said, “lead on.”

            He remained close to her as they moved through the streets, and Narcissa’s heart pounded.  She gave no indication of where they were going as they walked, their boots crunching on the snow-covered path.  Suddenly, she gave his arm a gentle pull and led him into an alleyway between two shops.  It was the same spot where they’d hidden from Professors McGonagall and Thomason on the unauthorized trip to Hogsmeade when Narcissa had met Andromeda and Lucius had been worried enough about her safety to follow her.  She remembered how close they’d stood and how she’d felt his breath against her neck and how wonderful it had been to hold his hand... and feel his lips against hers for the first time.  

            Now, she looked up at him with a smile, and she saw his eyes brighten as he looked around the alley.  She ran her fingers through his hair.  “I couldn’t resist,” she said.   

            She leaned up to meet his lips, and he returned her kiss with passion as he pushed her gently against the wall of one of the buildings.  

            “I’m glad you didn’t,” he breathed when he pulled back.  “This will forever be our spot.”

            She smiled up at him, bringing her hands down to rest on his shoulders.  “It will.  I’m so glad to share a spot with you.” She returned her lips to his and pulled him closer.  After several blissful moments, Lucius shivered, and Narcissa pulled back slightly to meet his eyes as he spoke. 

            “Merlin’s beard, my rose,” he said, gently grabbing her hands from his shoulders and pulling them toward his waist.  “You can rest your hands inside my jacket, if you’d like.  It’s freezing.”

            “Thank you, my love,” said Narcissa.  She slipped her hands into his jacket and embraced him beneath it.  Lucius returned his hands to her cheeks and his lips to hers.  Narcissa had been too distracted by the feeling of his lips against hers to notice how unpleasant the weather had become, but now that her mind was on it, she realized they should probably find somewhere warmer.  Eventually, she pulled back just enough to speak.  “Should we go home, my love? We can sit by the fire and eat too much of what we just found at Honeydukes.”

            Lucius nodded.  “I’d like that very much.  Sitting next to you in front of a warm fire, eating our favorite sweets? What more could I ask for?" he asked before kissing her.  “We’ll continue this at home,” he breathed against her lips.

            Narcissa shivered at the feeling of Lucius’s breath.  “Sounds wonderful.” She pulled her arms back reluctantly and grabbed his hand, leaning up to peck his lips before starting out of the alley.  She heard a pair of voices nearby, but they were too low for her to discern yet to whom they belonged.  As they continued down the street, she tried to put the sound from her mind. 

            “Isn’t that your mother?” whispered Lucius.

            Narcissa froze.  She felt as though a bucket of ice had been dumped over her, and it had nothing to do with the weather.  She glanced around in a panic, her mind beginning to process that he was right as the voices drew nearer. 

            “I think it is.  What—what do we do?” She hadn’t seen her mother since she’d left on what was supposed to have been a brief visit to Malfoy Manor, and she knew Druella couldn’t be remotely happy about her daughter not returning and relying on a letter from Abraxas and Seraphina to excuse her.

            Lucius quickly pulled Narcissa against his chest and pulled up the hood of his traveling cloak before raising hers, as well.  He then pushed her gently against the wall, leaning as close to her as possible.  “We’ll wait here until she and whoever she’s with leave,” he whispered.

            Narcissa clung to Lucius, immensely relieved that he was with her and willing to help her through this.  She leaned close to him and tried hard not to panic.  “All right.” She agreed that remaining here until her mother passed would draw the least suspicion; they were too far from the alley to move back in without drawing attention to themselves.            

            “Are you warm enough, my rose?” Lucius asked very quietly.  “Snuggle up to me if not.”

            Narcissa smiled softly beneath her hood at the offer, and she did as he’d suggested, moving closer to him.  “Thank you,” she said softly.  She was cold, yes, but more than that, she felt safer when she was near Lucius.

            “...lucky he’s otherwise occupied.  Really, Thomas, we can’t be so blatant about things.  I know Hogsmeade isn’t terribly busy with the students on holiday, but people still talk.”

            Narcissa’s eyes widened as her mother’s voice became clearer and closer, and she held onto Lucius more tightly.  Thomas? Druella was here with Thorfinn’s father?

            “Don’t you tire of pretending?” asked a man’s voice that Narcissa knew must belong to Thomas Rowle.

            “Of course I do,” said Druella.  Her voice was incredibly close, now, and Narcissa hid her face in Lucius’s chest, determined to remain unseen by her mother.  “Two of my daughters have their marks, and it’s horrible to watch them run off when I couldn’t—to have to hide the evidence of my match.” Druella sighed bitterly.  “Allow me to correct myself: only one of them is my daughter.  Though if she keeps hiding behind Abraxas Malfoy and having him write us letters so that she can do Merlin-knows-what with—”

            “Ella.  Focus.”

            “The point is, it’s bloody unfair.”

            Narcissa was frozen in place as the voices passed behind where she and Lucius stood.  So Bellatrix hadn’t been lying about their mother having and concealing a soulmate mark.  Narcissa was almost certain she was going to be ill.  She tuned out the voices to the best of her ability, and when Lucius leaned down to meet her lips, her heart pounded.  For a moment, she feared being seen, and then she realized their hoods would conceal one another’s faces. 

            She heard a mutter from Thomas that sounded like, “Damn Mudbloods giving us a bad name,” followed by two _pops_ signaling that he and Druella had Disapparated. 

            Lucius pulled back and looked down to meet Narcissa’s eyes.  “Cissy, let’s go home,” he said.

            Narcissa nodded.  She was so angry and upset with her mother that she was trembling, and she tried hard to hold herself still.  “Yes, home sounds wonderful.”

            She let out a sigh and shifted back grudgingly, and she took his hand and gave it a small pull toward The Three Broomsticks.  They returned to Malfoy Manor through the pub’s fireplace, and when they’d emerged in the drawing room, Lucius immediately wrapped his arms around Narcissa and pulled her close.  She collapsed against him, clinging to him as tightly as she could without causing him pain.  She couldn’t wrap her mind around what they’d heard.

            “I’m so glad I’ll never have to deal with them again after the papers are dealt with”" she said quietly.

            “I know, my rose,” Lucius whispered, kissing her hair.  “It’s going to be okay.  The papers will go through soon.  And then we’ll marry.  I’m sorry you had to hear all that.  I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.” Lucius pulled her closer, his lips still against her hair.

            Narcissa nodded and tried to believe that things would work out decently.  “I just can’t believe she’s doing that to Father and still has the nerve to try to control my life.” She let out a sigh.  “Thank you for being here.  The thought of marrying you is the only thing that’s keeping me sane, right now.”

            “And all that she’s already done to you this year because of who her true love is...” Lucius shook his head.  “I’m just glad we found each other.”

            “Me too.” She leaned up to kiss his jaw, and then she paused.  “She was going to put me through being with Thorfinn just to get closer to his father.  That’s... absolutely insane.” Narcissa closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to put these thoughts from her mind before they could make her ill.  “I’m sorry.  I’m going to try not to let her get to me.”

            Lucius gave her a squeeze.  “Don’t you dare apologize, Narcissa.  This is all Druella, and you have every right to be upset.”

            She knew he was right, and she held to him more tightly, hoping he knew how much she appreciated his support.  Lucius opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything, his father’s voice drifted into the room from the corridor.

            “Sera, they’re in the drawing room.”

            Narcissa tensed slightly, and she watched the doorway.  She hoped Abraxas and Seraphina wouldn’t be upset that she and Lucius had left the house.  When Lucius’s parents entered the room, Seraphina looked from her son to Narcissa and back.

            “What’s going on?” she asked.  Narcissa watched as Seraphina’s gaze drifted down to her boots. 

            Lucius shrugged.  “Nothing. What did you want?” he asked them.

            “We want to talk,” said Abraxas, nodding toward the sofa.  “Please, sit.”

            Lucius sighed quietly and guided Narcissa to the sofa.  “All right,” he said as they sat. 

            Narcissa watched as Abraxas settled into the armchair and Seraphina stood at his side, her face neutral despite the suffering Narcissa knew she was enduring.  Narcissa returned her focus to Abraxas, who looked incredibly pale.  She couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt to endure the Cruciatus Curse while he was already so ill, and to face it at the hands of his son… Narcissa wanted to stay out of things until she knew how Lucius’s parents felt about everything that had transpired the previous evening, but she couldn’t let him take the blame.  She needed to head things off before that could happen.

            “Lord and Lady Malfoy,” she began, “I just want you to know that what happened was my fault.  Lucius wanted me to stay out of the Dark Lord’s range, and I’m so, so sorry that I got too close and that it made things worse for you.  That was never my intention.”

            Lucius placed his hand on her forearm softly.  Narcissa looked to him, feeling guilty that she hadn’t warned him about what she planned to say and hoping he wasn’t upset that she’d done so.  However, she was relieved by his touch, and she tried to smile at him before looking to his father, who sighed.

            “Thank you,” said Abraxas.  “I hope you learned your lesson, Miss Black.  The Dark Lord is not a man to be taken lightly.  And know that when you allow yourself to believe that he is, people you care about often are hurt... or worse...”

            Narcissa felt Lucius tense beside her, and she frowned, reaching out to lay her hand on his knee and wondering what was wrong. 

            “She understands, Father,” he said with a nod.  “We both do.”

            “Yes, sir,” said Narcissa.

            Seraphina rested a hand on Abraxas’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “I’m glad all of you are all right.”

            “Me too, Mother.” Lucius wrapped his arm around Narcissa, pulling her close to him and kissing her hair.  “I love you,” he whispered.  He pulled back slightly.  “I’m sorry, Father.  I—”

            Abraxas raised his hand for silence.  “I will have none of that.  You know perfectly well you were given orders, and you followed them—like any good soldier would.”

            Narcissa turned to watch Lucius, who lowered his gaze to the floor.

            Seraphina sighed.  “You know,” she said, “when I told the Dark Lord I was proud of you, I meant it.  And the fact that you didn’t enjoy what he made you do is precisely why.  You are a good person, Lucius.  Don’t forget that.”

            Narcissa squeezed his knee and nodded.  “You are,” she said quietly.  “I’m honored to be with you.”

            A slight smile crept onto his lips. 

            “I’m proud of you too, Lucius,” said Abraxas.  “I know that my wife will be safe when I’m gone. You’re everything I ever hoped for in a son and absolutely more.”

            Lucius nodded toward his father, and Narcissa could see that he was trying hard to hold back tears.  “Thank you, Mother.  Father.  I love you both very much.” He kissed Narcissa’s forehead.  “Thank you.  I love you,” he breathed.  He stood, and Narcissa followed suit, keeping a firm grip on his hand.  “If you’ll excuse us,” Lucius continued, “we have some candy to eat.  I’d like to enjoy my youth for a little while longer.”

            Narcissa followed him upstairs and into his chambers, and he released her hand to grip the back of the chaise. 

            “I don’t want my father to die,” Lucius admitted through the tears he no longer bothered to hide.  His voice grew in force until he was shouting.  “It’s not fair! We didn’t get enough time together, Narcissa!”

            Her heart sank, and she closed her eyes, wishing she knew what to say that might have even a small chance at making him feel better.  Opening her eyes, she made her way over to hug him from behind and rest her face against his back.

            “I know,” she said.  It’s not fair at all.  I’m so sorry, my love.  You deserve more time with him, and for all of this to happen is... just cruel.”

            “I’d do anything to cure him, Cissy.  Absolutely anything.”

            Narcissa nodded against Lucius’s back.  “I know you would.  I wish there was a way.”

            “I don’t know if I can do this,” he continued.  “I’ve seen the sadness in my mother’s eyes as she sits and waits for my father—I’ve often waited with her—and I can’t bear the thought of you having to do that, too...” Lucius turned toward her and rested his hands on her upper arms.  “I don’t want you lying awake and worrying for me, Cissy.  What if I don’t come...?” Lucius shook his head.  “I have to have a full life with you.  I deserve that much.”

            Narcissa’s stomach turned.   _No... no no no. Don’t think this way..._ She met his eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders, moving closer and pushing him back gently against the chaise.

            “And you will have a full life with me.  Lucius, I’m not going anywhere.  Ever.  I know what I’m signing up for, and if it means sitting up and waiting for you to come home, so be it.  I’m going to be here for you to come home to.  We have to focus on making that full life and not on the ‘what if’s.” She squeezed his shoulders and rested her head against his chest.  “No matter what, I will be with you.”

            Lucius held on to her waist tightly and nodded.  “I—that's what I want.” He held her close for a long time, and when he eventually pulled back, he removed the bag of candy from the pocket of his cloak.  “Shall we feast?” he asked.

            “That sounds wonderful,” said Narcissa with a nod.  “I’d say we’ve earned it.  Where should we sit?” She leaned up to kiss him softly.

            Lucius smiled.  “How about here?” He took her hand and guided her around to the other side of the chaise, taking his seat and patting the place next to him.

            Narcissa sat and rested rest her head on his shoulder, and Lucius wrapped his arm around her.  She smiled when she felt his lips against her hair. 

            “I’ll have to demonstrate my expertise with the beans,” she said. 

            Lucius handed her the Honeydukes bag, and Narcissa lifted her head. 

            “Please do.” Lucius grinned. 

            Narcissa reached into the bag to produce the box of Bertie Bott’s and open it.  She plucked a bean from within and held it up to the light, squinting for show as she felt his eyes on her.

            “Hmm... here.  This one’s safe.  Toasted marshmallow.” She held it out to him.

            Lucius took the bean and ate it without hesitation, and when he’d swallowed, his grin returned.  “Merlin’s beard, Cissy... you weren’t joking.  Let’s have another go!”

            Narcissa smiled at him brightly.  “See? It’s a strange talent.” She laughed and reached into the box again, and at the sight of the bean she’d pulled from it, she blinked.  “Oh, you don’t want that.  Dirt.” She dropped the bean and looked into the box to grab another.  When she found one she knew would be pleasant, she nodded.  “Tutti frutti,” she said, holding it out to Lucius.

            He took the bean and bit off half of it.  “Right again!” he said with a smile.  “You’re absolutely brilliant.” He held the remainder out to her, and she leaned forward to eat it from his hand. 

            “Thank you,” she said, pecking his lips.  “Glad I can save you from the bad ones.”

            “Me too.”

            He returned her peck and then rummaged in the bag for a moment.  He produced the Chocolate Cauldrons and Jelly Slugs with a smile.  Narcissa thanked him as she took her chocolates, and she pulled one from the package and bit into the outside, letting out a happy sigh.  She watched as Lucius stared at the box of slugs for a moment before opening the flap, pulling one out, and popping it into his mouth.

            “I’m glad you found those,” she said.

            “I’m glad you don’t think I’m mad.” He leaned close to kiss her nose and then glanced toward the window.

When his focus returned to her, he was beaming.  She followed his gaze to find that the snow had begun to fall outside the glass.

            “Cissy, do you want to build a snowman?” Lucius asked excitedly.

            Narcissa smiled, positively adoring the sight of his enthusiasm.  She knew he’d been under an incredible amount of strain, and if she could help to take his mind off of everything he’d faced and help him to enjoy his youth while he could, she was more than glad to oblige.  She set her Chocolate Cauldrons down on the table and reached out to grab the rest of their purchases from him gently, shifting them onto the table as well.

            “Yes, darling, I’d love to build a snowman.”

            Lucius’s face brightened, and in the lamplight, his grey eyes seemed to sparkle.  He stood from the chaise and held out his hand, and Narcissa took it.  She followed him from the room and out into the snow. 


	40. Chapter Forty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius experiences a tragedy.

The next day arrived, and Lucius smiled when his eyes opened and landed on Narcissa’s nude figure curled up next to him.  He kissed her nose and rolled out of bed.  He grabbed and pulled on his house robe, casting a glance in her direction to ensure that she was still sleeping, and made his way out into the hall.  Lucius had decided that he wanted to speak with his parents and tell them how much they meant to him; after the ordeal with the Dark Lord and with his father’s illness, Lucius knew things were becoming too dangerous to put off making certain that they knew how he felt.  He hadn’t had the chance to speak with his father alone since he’d been forced to perform the Cruciatus Curse on the elder Malfoy. 

_He knows I was following orders, but still.  I have to make sure he’s all right._

            Lucius approached his parents’ door and went to knock, but he stopped himself at the sound of his mother’s cries from within.  He’d never heard her as distraught as she sounded now, and he knew she had to be suffering something terrible.

            “Mother? Mother!” he exclaimed, throwing open the door. 

            Before him was the sight he’d hoped never to witness.  His mother was sobbing, her shoulders shaking violently, and she was leaning over his father, who was unnervingly still. 

            Lucius rushed over to his parents’ bed and crouched at its edge.  

            “Mother, is he...?” Lucius couldn’t bring himself to ask the question.

            He watched his mother.  As their eyes met, her sobs multiplied, and she held out an arm Lucius knew was meant to beckon him closer.  Her other hand was gripping her husband’s.

            “Mother...?”

            Lucius found his tears increasingly difficult to hold back—they bottled so heavily in his eyes that they nearly obscured his vision.  He knew precisely what was happening; his father was lying right in front of him, and his chest no longer rose and fell with his breath as it always had. 

            “Father... Dad... No!” Lucius cried, allowing himself to break, even though every bit of his being begged—screamed—for him to hold on to his dignity and to be strong for his mother.  But how could he? His father was dead—right in front of him.  Just when Lucius was coming to tell him that he was so thankful for everything his father had done for him.  Lucius burrowed his head in his father’s chest and gripped tightly to his robes.  “I didn’t get to tell him,” he muttered darkly between sobs. 

            A few moments passed in which he felt nothing but his despair and loss cutting through to his core.  He then felt his mother’s arm slide around him and her head rest against his shoulder. 

            “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I wish it wasn’t true.” Seraphina let out a heavy sigh and gave Lucius’s arm a squeeze.  “He knew how much you loved him, Lucius.  He did.  And he loved you—gods, he loved you, and he was so very proud of you.” She tightened her grip on him, and he felt her body shaking against his back.  

            Lucius let out a sigh as his tears fell onto his father’s sleeping robes.  “We didn’t have enough time... He didn’t...” Lucius grunted and pulled away, and like a flash of lightning, his mental walls returned.  He let out a furious cry, looking up to the ceiling as though it were an opening to the heavens.  “Why?” he shouted, looking to his father and crumbling once again.  He leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor and burying his head in his hands while his elbows sat on his knees, and began to sob harder than he had before. 

            A few moments passed, and Lucius heard shifting and felt his mother sit down beside him.

            “Come here,” she said softly.  She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, and he embraced her in return.  “I’m sorry, love.  It’s not fair.” Lucius felt her kiss the top of his head, and he realized he wasn’t the only one trembling. 

            “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said quietly with a soft sniff.  “I should be stronger for you.  I will be... I’m sorry you lost him, too.”

            He felt his mother shake her head.  “Thank you, sweetheart.  But it’s all right to hurt.  I know you don’t think so, but it’s part of being human.  When you love someone and you lose them, it’s... it’s only natural.”

            Lucius clung to her, his eyes closed, and continued to let out his tears.  He felt himself fading, and he hoped that when he opened his eyes again, all of this would turn out to be a dream.  

* * *

When he woke, he became aware that he was leaning against a body and that arms were wrapped around him.  A hand was rubbing his back, and his eyes ached. 

            _It was real,_ he thought bitterly.  He felt the floor beneath where he sat, and he knew that if he opened his eyes, he would see his parents’ bedroom.  He clung tighter to his mother’s robes and tried to force his eyes to open. 

            “It’s all right, my love.  You’re not alone.”

            Lucius realized that the voice at his ear did not belong to his mother.  He opened his eyes slowly and worked to process what he saw—Narcissa’s lower half, as his head rested against her chest and faced the floor, and the dark wooden floor beneath them.  The cold of the wood rose through his body, and he shivered. 

            He lifted his head to Narcissa’s face, and his focus fell on her eyes.  Those bright-blue eyes that he desperately needed right now.

            “He’s gone... My father is dead.”

            Lucius slowly pushed himself to his feet.  He refused to look toward the bed, but in his periphery, he saw his mother sleeping, lying beside his father.  Lucius held out his hand to Narcissa, wanting so badly to leave the room—to leave the place where his father lay—and not see the man he’d always known to be so strong and mighty this way.

            Narcissa took Lucius’s hand and stood.  She wrapped her other arm around him and guided him quietly out of the room and through the hallways to his own.  When they arrived, she embraced him tightly and rested her face against his shoulder.

            “I’m so sorry, darling,” she said.  “How can I help you?”

            Lucius buried his head in her shoulder, as well, and let out the rest of his pain through the tears he could hold back no longer.  “I need you to... would you consider holding me, right now?” he asked, looking toward their bed and then back to her.

            “Of course,” said Narcissa.  “I would love to.”

            Lucius felt her lips against his cheek, and he nodded slowly, following her to the bed.  He lay down and patted the space beside him as he closed his eyes.  He was trying so hard to keep it together, but he was finding it incredibly difficult.  He felt the mattress shift beside him, and a moment later, he felt Narcissa’s arms wrap around him.

            “I love you,” she said, and her lips brushed against his forehead.  “And I’m going to stay right here with you.”

            Lucius snuggled closer to Narcissa, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall again.  He was Lucius Malfoy, son of... the—now—late Abraxas... Malfoy.  He could hear his father’s voice in his mind. _A Malfoy man remains strong at all times; a Malfoy..._

            “It doesn’t matter what a Malfoy does,” muttered Lucius aloud to his thoughts.  “None of it matters...” Lucius saw flashes of all the times his father had taught him the ‘ _Malfoy Family Ways_ ’ and times they’d shared together.  He remembered being a small child and attempting to sneak into an empty room and use his father’s wand, which he’d borrowed without permission, and how instead of anger, his actions had been met by Abraxas’s promises to teach Lucius how to use a wand properly when he was old enough.  He remembered when he’d decided he wanted to play Quidditch and how his father had been there to dust him off when he’d fallen off his broom and tell him to get back on it and try again— _“You’re a Malfoy, my boy, and you can do anything you set your mind to”_ —and when his mind returned to the present, Lucius realized he’d started crying once again.  “Cissy... I didn’t get to say goodbye...”

            Narcissa’s grip on him tightened.  “I’m so sorry.  You deserved to be able to do that.  It’s not fair at all.” She sighed.  “I hope you know how much you meant to him.  I was only around him for a short time, but I saw it very clearly.”

            Lucius felt her lips against his hair and opened his eyes a crack to see that she had begun to weep, as well.  He embraced her, mentally cursing himself for causing her pain.  He tried to pull himself together, but the more he tried, the more he failed.  They clung to one another, Narcissa muttering “I love you” every few moments as she rubbed his back, and eventually, Lucius allowed his exhaustion to take over once again and surrendered to sleep. 

* * *

He stirred awake from another round of nightmares at the feeling of someone stroking his arm.  He opened his eyes and worked to process the room around him, and he kissed Narcissa’s nose when he saw her sleeping beside him.  Lucius turned to see his mother sitting on the bed’s edge and watched her fingers stroking his arm for a long moment.  He saw the tears that had dried on her face and the rigidity of her posture and the absolute sadness that seemed to engulf her.

            “Mum?” whispered Lucius, placing his hand on top of hers.

            Seraphina gave him a feeble smile.  The expression was brittle, as though her face would break if she tried to move it too much.  She looked down at Lucius’s hand on top of hers and gripped his arm more tightly.

            “Hello, dear,” she said.  “I just—I want you to know that last night, your father and I had a long talk after we went back to our chambers.  I think—I think he knew what was going to...” She let out a long sigh.  “He made his peace with how things are in our family and with the life we made together.  It wasn’t as long as we wanted it to be, but it was wonderful.  More than anything, we wanted to ensure that our son grew up to be the brilliant young man we knew he could be, and Abraxas—he was very glad that he got to be around to see that happen.” She reached up with her free hand to wipe the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks once again.  “You’re our miracle, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.  You are what your father was most proud of in this world, and he wanted you to know that.”

            Lucius’s eyes stung as he listened; his mother’s words made his heart crack in two.  “I miss him already, Mother,” he breathed, releasing his grip on Narcissa and sitting up to embrace Seraphina.  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he breathed against her silvery blonde locks.  “I’m so, so sorry.”

            His mother sighed and embraced him, her head resting against his chest.  “I miss him, too.  This is the first time I’ll really be without him since... well, since our sixth year at school.  But I’m very glad I have you.” She paused.  “I’m sorry you had to see him that way.  He wanted you to remember him like he was.”

            Lucius held tighter to his mother, kissing her hair and nodding at her words.  “It’s all right, Mother.  I’ll always remember.”

            He heard shifting from behind him, and he turned his head to look at her Narcissa, who had awoken and was watching them silently.  He motioned for her to scoot closer, wanting to feel her nearness.  Narcissa sat up and moved to his side.  She rested a hand on his knee.  Seraphina drew back slightly, and Lucius looked toward her as she rolled her shoulders backward and straightened her posture. 

            “Is there anything you need?” she asked. 

            Lucius shook his head.  He knew she was trying to be strong for him, but he didn’t want her to push away her pain, especially not for his sake.  He of all people knew how much his parents had loved one another. 

            “All I need is my mother in my arms,” he answered.  “I want you to let me comfort you.”  He wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her closer and holding her tightly.

            “I love you,” his mother muttered. 

            Narcissa gave Lucius’s knee a squeeze and leaned close to kiss his cheek.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m going to get you two breakfast.” She sat up and started to slide off the bed. 

            Lucius grabbed Narcissa’s house robe and pulled her gently down onto the bed once more.  “Wait,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss her.  “I love you.”

            Narcissa traced his cheek with a smile. “I love you.” She stood and made her way from the room, and Lucius embraced his mother once again.

            “I’m very glad the two of you have each other,” said Seraphina. 

            Lucius rested his cheek on his mother’s head.  “Me too.  I don’t know what I’d do without her…” He trailed off, and his mind raced with thoughts he’d been trying to fight back for the past few weeks.  “Can I share something with you?” he asked quietly.

            He felt her nod.          

            “Of course, love,” she said.  “Anything.”

            Lucius drew back to look into his mother’s eyes, which were the same pale grey as his own.  He didn’t know whether he should voice his fears to her or hold them back, especially now that she was suffering so greatly, though he knew that she would want him to; he knew that she wanted to feel needed, right now.  He knew she needed a purpose—they were similar in that way with tragedies, and his father had always been the same.  Lucius drew in a long breath and let it out again.

            “I’ve been wondering if… I don’t think—no, I know that I couldn’t bear losing Narcissa to death… it would mean… I—I don’t… Should I follow through with it, if the end is inevitable? I’m going to have to go through the pain of losing her one day, or she’s going to have to go through the pain of losing me.  And, Mother, I can’t even handle the thought of losing her…” Lucius gulped, feeling regret for having such feelings and even more for discussing them with his mother before bringing them up to Narcissa.  He knew he couldn’t live without her, now—his love for her was too deep; his heart would shatter into pieces if he left her—but he didn’t know if he could stay with her, knowing that one day one of them would take their last breath and leave the other behind.  How could something so wonderful end so tragically? Why was life so cruel?

            Seraphina reached out to take Lucius’s hands in her own, and she shook her head firmly.  “Lucius, I understand what you’re feeling, right now.  Sweetheart, yes, it hurts unimaginably to lose someone who is the other half of your soul.  But the only thing that could hurt worse is losing the life you could have with them before it begins.  I don’t regret a moment of the time I spent with your father.  He gave me the best life I could’ve asked for, and he gave me you.  I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world, even if that meant avoiding the pain I feel now.” She squeezed his hands. 

            Lucius knew his mother was right.  He was glad he’d brought up his feelings to her, because he truly needed her words of reassurance—the ones that reminded him not to push away the one he loved most of all. 

            “Thank you, Mother,” he whispered.  “I hate that your time with Father was cut so short.”

            Seraphina pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head.  “I hate that, too.  But I see him when I look at you.”

            Lucius closed his eyes.  He was honored that his mother saw his father in him and heartbroken at the thought that she could be in pain at the sight of him. 

            “And when I look here,” she continued. 

            He opened his eyes as she lifted her wrist, and he took in the sight of the silver peacock emblazoned upon it.  Lucius reached out to stroke the magical mark that linked his parents together with his fingertips, and the reminder that he was the product of their true love washed over him.  He looked up to see fresh tears falling down his mother’s face.  He brought his hands up to rest gently against her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears.

            “He’s still with us,” he said.  “In spirit.”

            “Yes, he is.” Seraphina kissed Lucius’s forehead.  “I hope you know that I’m very proud of you.”

            “I do.  Thank you, Mother.”

            He leaned forward and rested his head against her shoulder for several moments, fighting hard to pull himself together as she rubbed his back.  Eventually, she spoke again.

            “Family’s going to start arriving soon.  Hopefully not too many of them at once.”

            Lucius let out a heavy sigh.  He dreaded the arrival of the rest of their family.  He and his mother would now have to face everyone’s sentiments and apologies—so many words that he knew would exhaust him and Seraphina and not allow them to truly grieve until everyone else had gone and only the two of them and Narcissa remained.  He knew they would be bombarded with food they would never finish—most likely casseroles, as he’d always found them to be a popular dish when someone had died. 

            “Well, we’d best get ourselves ready for them all to arrive,” he said.  “As much as we’d like for them not to show all show up at the same time, they will.  I’ll retrieve Narcissa.”

            Seraphina nodded solemnly and kissed Lucius’s cheek.  “We’ll make it through this.  I love you.”

            She squeezed his shoulder and stood, and he watched her go.  He sniffed, wiped his eyes, and climbed off the bed and to his feet.  After securing his house robe, he made his way into the hallway.  He needed to find Narcissa so that she could dress before any of his judgmental family members arrived.  He was afraid of what he might do if someone chose to insult her today. 


	41. Chapter Forty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa works to help Lucius through the loss of his father.

Narcissa had made her way downstairs and located the elf, and he was currently preparing breakfast for Lucius and Seraphina on her order.  For the first time, in the face of such tragedy, she felt she’d found a purpose.  She would keep her new family together and happy in any way she could and do everything within her power to help them.

            Narcissa was on her way back upstairs when the hooting of an owl caught her attention.  She turned her head to find that one had flown in through the open window behind Abraxas’s desk chair in the study and had landed on his desk.  She started forward again, but the owl let out another hoot and ruffled its brown feathers, and Narcissa moved tentatively into the study and toward the desk to find that the owl held a letter addressed to her.  She reached out to take it, glancing around as she did at the room that seemed colder, now that its usual occupant was gone.

            She opened the envelope and removed a folded stack of papers that she recognized immediately as the emancipation documents Abraxas had sent back to the Ministry.  They now bore the signature of Minister Eugenia Jenkins and a black wax seal in the shape of an ‘M.’ As she flipped through the paperwork, she found a small piece of parchment bearing a handwritten note from Minister Jenkins wishing her well and stating that she was now legally emancipated from her parents and capable of making her own legal decisions. 

            _This is actually happening,_ she thought.  _…But why now?_

She was thrilled by the arrival of the documents, and yet she felt strangely hollow.

            Narcissa blinked and looked around at the brush of arms against her waist as they slid around her, and she immediately relaxed when her mind caught up to her and she processed that it was Lucius. 

            “Something troubling you?” he asked in a whisper in her ear. 

            She didn’t want to upset him further, but she knew he was too perceptive not to know she was hiding something if she didn’t admit what she was feeling. 

            “I appreciate your father’s help with all of this, and I just wish he’d been able to see it succeed.” She laid her hands on his and scooted back against him. 

            She heard him draw in a breath and felt him let it out against her neck, which he kissed a few times along with her shoulder as he squeezed her middle tightly.

            “He knew, my rose.  His soul is smiling somewhere, right now.”

            “I’m glad he knew,” she said quietly, turning her head for a better look at him.

            Lucius drew himself up to his fullest height, and Narcissa shifted to face him and rested her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

            “We can marry, now,” Lucius breathed as he rested his chin on her head.  “I do wish he could’ve been there and lived long enough to see the looks on your parents’ faces when they find out… I’m sure, though, just like I know he’s somewhere around here watching over us, that he’ll be able to see their faces.  I just wish they could’ve seen his.” He sighed. 

            Narcissa knew Lucius was right, and she hoped that however Abraxas was watching over them, he would enjoy her parents’ reactions when they finally learned what she’d done and planned to do. 

            “I wish that, too,” she said.  “And I can’t wait to marry you, Luc.”

            Narcissa’s cheeks burned—she hadn’t entirely meant to let the nickname slip out, but she’d been considering it as he’d slept earlier, and she hoped he didn’t mind.  She’d wanted to have something that only she would call him, something special, as he’d given her. 

            She felt him squeeze her tighter.

            “Spending the rest of my life on this earth with you will be a pleasure,” he said. 

            He rested his hands against her cheeks and grazed them softly with his thumbs.  As she watched his face, she relaxed considerably; he was grinning.  _Good,_ she thought, _that didn’t go nearly as badly as I’d feared._ She smiled, and her heart raced as he leaned closer to let his lips brush against hers. 

            “Sera? Lucius? Where is everyone?”

            At the sound of the voice, Narcissa froze.  Lucius pulled back and turned away, moving for the door, and Narcissa followed him out into the hallway, where she caught sight of a tall woman with grey eyes and her pale blond hair pulled back into a tight bun.  Her face was tearstained.

            “Oh, Lucius,” the woman cried, stepping forward and practically falling into his arms.  “I just received word of my dear brother… I came right away.” She pulled back after a moment and wiped her eyes.  “Where’s your mother?”

            “She’s getting ready,” said Lucius.  “Can I get you anything? Tea, perhaps?”

            “Yes, tea would be lovely, my boy,” said the woman, whom Narcissa now understood to be Lucius’s aunt.  She couldn’t imagine how awkward it must’ve been for him to hear his aunt use the same term of endearment his father had chosen for him. 

            Lucius nodded.  “I’ll be back.” He turned to face Narcissa, smiling despite the pain she knew he had to be feeling.  “While I’m gone, I’d like you to meet my—my fiancée, Narcissa Black.”

            He started down the hall, and she stepped forward to close the distance between herself and his aunt, making a mental note to remain as close to him as she could for the rest of this difficult day, when he returned.  She knew the appearance of family members couldn’t be easy for him to bear. 

            “Hello, dear,” said the woman.  “I’m Asherah.  Asherah Malfoy.”

            Narcissa held out her hand, and Asherah shook it. 

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Narcissa.  “And I’m very sorry for your loss.  Your brother treated me… well, like a daughter.  It was an honor to know him.”  

            “I’m glad you were able to,” said Asherah, “even if just for a short time.  My brother was a good man.  No matter what he damn Mudbloods or their supporters choose to think.”

            Narcissa nodded.  She’d seen that of Abraxas, even in the very short time they’d known one another.  “He truly was.”

            As she stood before Lucius’s aunt, Narcissa realized she was wearing only her robe, and she tightened its sash, trying hard not to blush.  Asherah rested her hand on Narcissa’s wrist. 

            “It’s all right, my dear,” she said.  “We’re going through a tragedy, right now.  No one expects you to look your best.  No one that matters, anyway.”  Asherah slid her arm around Narcissa’s waist and guided her into the study.  “When Lucius returns, the two of you will have a chance to change.” 

            Narcissa let out a quiet sigh.  She was glad Lucius’s aunt wasn’t judging her for her appearance, at the moment, though she still felt incredibly odd letting anyone other than Lucius see her this way.  She’d only recently begun to allow him to, as well, and she was more comfortable around him than anyone else in the world. 

            “Right now, tell me about you, love.  Did I hear that your last name is Black? I take it you’re one of Cygnus’s girls?”

            “Yes, his youngest.” Narcissa paused, wondering what everyone outside her biological family thought of it.  “Do you know my parents?” She assumed they must’ve attended school together, but she couldn’t be certain. 

            Asherah smiled.  “Yes, I know your parents.” Her tone was one of disdain; it was clear that she wasn’t fond of Cygnus and Druella.  “You seem nothing like the rest of your lot.  And I hope you take that as a compliment, my dear.”

            Narcissa nodded with a soft smile.  “Thank you.  I’m quite glad to hear that.” Asherah’s opinion of the Blacks seemed similar to her own, for which she was thankful.  If the rest of the Wizarding World saw her parents for what they were, Narcissa knew it couldn’t all be in her head.  “I’m enjoying getting to know your family,” she continued.  “Lucius has been my best friend for… well, since before we started school.  And now we’re getting married.  I couldn’t be more excited.”

            Asherah sat on the chaise and patted the seat next to her, and Narcissa took it. 

            “Well, our mother would’ve found you most delightful,” said Asherah with a sigh.  “No one expected Abraxas to die so young.  I truly believed my brother would live to be several hundred years old.  He simply had that fire—that spirit in him.  It pains me that he didn’t make it.  It pains me so deeply.” Asherah shook her head, patting Narcissa’s knee as she sniffed.  “So, how is sch—?”

            “Your tea with light cream and sugar, just how you like it.”

            Narcissa looked up at the sound of Lucius’s voice from behind the chaise, and she watched as he passed his aunt the teacup and then smiled.

            “We should ready ourselves for the rest of the family, my love,” he told Narcissa softly with a strained smile. 

            Narcissa squeezed Asherah’s hand. “We’ll be back shortly.  I’m very glad to meet you.”  She stood and made her way over to take Lucius’s hand.

            “I’ve informed Dobby of your arrival,” he told his aunt, “and he is informing Mother.  She should be down soon.”

            Asherah nodded and thanked him, and Narcissa led Lucius from the room.  They made their way through the corridors and up the stairs.  When they reached the landing, she embraced him and leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

            “Breakfast should be ready soon,” she said.  “I know you probably don’t feel like eating, but…” She paused.  “Is there anything else I can do to help you, right now?” She hated knowing that he was in pain and having no idea how to ease it. 

            He gripped her waist tightly and kissed her hair.  “Thank you for trying so hard.  Please know that I’m incredibly thankful that you’re here with me.”

            Narcissa tried to smile.  “I would do anything for you.”

            He leaned down and met her lips, and she closed her eyes and returned his kiss. 

            “Take a shower with me?” he breathed against her lips.  “Let me hold you in my arms.  Don’t leave my side.  I can’t make it through this day without you.” 

            A wave of excitement shot through her at his words.  “I would love to.  And I promise I won’t leave your side.”

            She followed him into his chambers and watched as he removed his house robe and made his way into the bathroom.  She stripped out of her robe and laid it on the bed along with the emancipation papers, and then she moved into the bathroom.  She couldn’t believe that she’d become comfortable enough to do this in such a short time, but she trusted him completely.  When she arrived, she found him standing in front of the shower.  Their eyes met, and Narcissa watched as Lucius’s face lit up, his love for her apparent in his expression.  She smiled, finding herself increasingly excited at the prospect of this time alone.  She took a moment to process the sight of his handsome form standing before her, and she recalled for the thousandth time how fortunate she was to have him.  He held out his hand, and she stepped forward and took it, giving it a squeeze as she leaned up to kiss his jaw.

            “I love you,” Narcissa said softly.  She trailed her fingers over his cheek.  “Always and forever.”

            Lucius led her into the shower and looked down at her with a small smile as he moved her hair back from her face.  He lifted her chin with his fingers.  “And I love you, my dear rose.  Always and forever.”

            Narcissa held to his hand and enjoyed the warmth of the water rushing over her body as she kissed him softly.  He let out a moan against her lips, and she found her heart pounding at the contact.  She was incredibly relieved that he seemed to be allowing himself to relax, if only just a little.  After several moments, Lucius pulled back and turned around, reaching for the soap. 

            Narcissa’s gaze landed on his back and the imprint of her patronus. 

            “You know,” she said, recalling the one that she bore in the same place, “I think your patronus is very fitting.  You’re quite a bit like a lion.” She kissed his shoulder blade and traced the lioness softly with her fingertips. 

            Lucius tensed momentarily, and then she felt him relax.  She frowned. 

            “Is that so?” he asked softly.  He turned toward her, lathered the soap onto a cloth, and began washing her body with it silently.

            Narcissa watched his face, and though she enjoyed his touch, she couldn’t take her focus from the worry in his eyes.  She didn’t understand; she’d touched his mark before, and he hadn’t had a problem with it. 

            “Yes, it is,” she said.  “What’s wrong, my lion?”

            Several moments passed in silence, and he gently turned her around and began to wash her back.  The longer the pause lasted, the more Narcissa worried.  When she felt his hands reach the spot on her back upon which she knew his patronus was emblazoned, his motions stopped. 

            “I’m scared,” he admitted so quietly she wasn’t completely certain she’d heard him.

            Her heart ached—what could scare Lucius? She’d known very few things to do that over the years they’d been close. She slowly processed that he’d spoken the words when he’d reached her mark, and tension spread through her.  She turned to face him and took his hand in her own as her heart raced.

            “Why?”

            Lucius drew a long breath.  He leaned close, his hands resting against her stomach, and brushed his lips against hers.  “I’m afraid to live a full and wonderful life with you,” he said, “if it means I’ll lose you in the end.”

            Narcissa’s heart sank.  She wrapped her arms around him and pecked his lips before shaking her head.  “Losing you is something that I… well, I can’t even allow myself to think about, because I can’t handle it.” She moved closer and rested her head against his shoulder, trying hard not to let him see the tears that clouded her vision.  “I know that if that happens, I won’t survive it.  But that goes for now, too.  I would much rather have a long and happy life with you and… face whatever happens when it comes than miss out on that life altogether and lose you now.  You are everything to me.”

            She felt his cheek rest against her hair as he pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her. 

            “Cissy… Narcissa, I’m sorry.  You’re everything to me… please know that, my rose.  I don’t want to lose you, but I’m afraid.”

            “Don’t be sorry, please.  You’ve every reason to be worried, right now.” She kissed his neck.  “I’m afraid of that, too.  I just want you to know that as long as I’m breathing, I’m not going anywhere.  All I want is to be with you and to bring you as much happiness as you bring me.”

            Lucius nodded, and Narcissa looked up to watch his face.  Tears filled his eyes, and he seemed to be trying hard not to let them fall.  He opened his mouth as though he planned to speak, and instead, he let out a sharp breath.  He crashed his body into hers, pushing her against the shower wall and kissing her hard.  One hand rested at the back of her head, separating it from the wall, and the other was situated just beneath her shoulder blade. 

            “Don’t leave me,” he muttered against her lips. 

            She held on to his shoulders and returned his kiss with unrestrained passion, wanting him to know how very much she loved and needed him. 

            “Never,” she breathed between kisses.  “I promise.” She clung to him as her tears broke free—the combination of his pain and the fear of losing him were too much to handle and manage containing her emotions.  She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, and she felt the brush of his fingers against her cheeks, sweeping away her tears.

            “I love you,” he said quietly, and the words sent a wave of warmth through her. 

            “I love you so much.  And I swear that I will always be by your side.” She returned her lips to his and caressed his back gently. 

            “I promise to always be beside you,” said Lucius when he pulled back.  “And your lion? I like it.  Very much.”

            “I’m very glad.” Narcissa stretched up to kiss his cheek.  “I think it suits you well.”

            He resumed washing her and then himself, and she took the time to wash his hair followed by her own.  When they emerged from the shower, Lucius grabbed a towel from the counter and wrapped it around both of them before resting his head against her shoulder with a sigh as he held to her tightly.

            “Maybe if we click our heels together a few times, we’ll be transported far away—to a world where my father is still alive and this day never existed.”

            “Maybe so,” said Narcissa as she ran her fingers through his hair.  “I’m so sorry that this happened.  I wish we could start today over and that it would be different.”

            “Thank you, my rose,” Lucius whispered.  “That means more to me than you can possibly know.”

            Narcissa nodded, glad that she could help him, even if it was only through her words.  She wished more than anything at the moment that she could do more, but she didn’t know where to begin.  He leaned down to meet her lips once again, and she kissed him back passionately for as long as he permitted.  Eventually, he pulled back, and Narcissa bit her lip, gathering from the sound of Lucius’s disappointed groan that he hadn’t been prepared to part, either. 

            “We need to dress,” he said, reaching for her wrist and enclosing it in his grasp.

            She looked down to watch as he played with the ribbon she wore, and she had to smile.

            “We should,” she admitted.

            “When you’re ready, come back to my room, and I’ll braid your hair.  I’m an expert, you know.  Mum made me learn.  You can do the same to mine, if you’d like.”

            “I would love that,” she said, eyeing his hair, which had grown out considerably over the course of their term at school.  She thought it looked absolutely perfect on him.  “Thank you.  I can’t wait to see you braid.” She pecked his lips and followed him back into the bedroom, and while he made his way into the closet, she slipped on her robe.  “I’ll be right back,” she called. 

            Narcissa made her way to the room that was supposed to be hers, and she dressed in a long grey gown to match the ribbon Lucius had given her—and his eyes—and a pair of heels of the same color.  She sprayed on her perfume—vanilla—and made her way back to Lucius’s chambers.  

            She caught her breath at the sight of him—he looked so composed and dignified and incredibly handsome in his tailored black suit, white shirt, and navy tie.  He held out a hand, and she moved forward to take it as he leaned down to meet her lips.

            “I love you,” she breathed between kisses, resting her free hand on his cheek and tracing his skin with her thumb.  Now that she was dressed, she didn’t plan to leave his side for the remainder of the day.  She needed him to know that he had her unending support. 

            When he pulled back he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.  He guided her to the chaise and patted the cushion, and she sat. 

            “Thank you for this,” she said.  “I appreciate it greatly.”

            Lucius smiled.  “Of course, my rose.”

            She watched him disappear into the bathroom and return with a brush, and when he began to run it through her hair, she let out a long, contented sigh.  Lucius touching her hair was one of her favorite feelings, and she closed her eyes to savor his touch as he braided.

            “You’re the absolute best,” she said.  “Please never forget that.”

            “I won’t forget that.  And you don’t forget that you are, either.”

            Narcissa nodded.  She knew he meant the words, and she would try very hard to believe them.  She was beginning to believe quite a bit more in her worth, now that she knew someone could love her so much—especially someone as incredible as Lucius. 

            “Ribbon,” he said after a few more moments of braiding.  “Please.”

            She pulled the ribbon from her wrist and passed it back to him.  “Here you are, my lion.”

            Narcissa felt him maneuver her hair for a moment more, and then he moved around the chaise to sit beside her.

            “There,” he said.  “All done.”

            She leaned close to meet his lips.  “Thank you.  Your turn.” She trailed her fingers along his cheek.  “Can I borrow the brush, please?”

            Lucius nodded and passed it to her, and when she stood and made her way to the back of the chaise and began running the brush through his hair, he spoke.

            “So, while you’re doing that, I should probably inform you more about the family.”

            “Tell me anything you like,” she said.  “I’m here to listen.” She trailed her fingers through his locks along with the brush and watched him as well as she could from her position.  A few moments passed in silence, and then Lucius continued. 

            “My father’s parents won’t be here… well, I don’t believe his father would dare to make an appearance.  His mother, Thalia, was murdered by the Dark Lord—she tried intervening during my father’s test—and his father, Brutus, has blamed him ever since.”

            Narcissa paused in her motions, her eyes wide.  “That’s terrible.  I’m sorry, I can’t imagine… That has to be so difficult.  He has to know your father never wanted anything like that to happen.” If Abraxas’s test had been anything like his son’s, Narcissa knew, he hadn’t had a choice in the matter at all.

            Lucius gave a slight nod.  “Thank you.  One would think that, but, unfortunately, it’s not the case.”

            Narcissa sighed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before beginning to work on his braid.  “I’m sorry, my love.  Your aunt seems to think the world of you.”

            “It’s all right.  Yes, she’s lovely.  She’s a lot like Mother, which is funny, because Asherah was Father’s sister.  She and Mother are very close.”

            Narcissa continued braiding and nodded.  “I’m glad she’s here, then; she’ll be a great help.” She knew Seraphina would need someone to stay with her as Narcissa planned to do with Lucius.  “Does your mother have siblings?”

            Lucius passed her his ribbon and nodded.  “Yes, she has three siblings, actually: Elena, Evander, and Scarlett.  Two with ‘S’ names and two with ‘E.’”

            “Those are lovely names.” Narcissa finished his braid and tied it with the ribbon she’d given him on their first night together, and when he stood from the chaise, moved to her side, and met her lips, she kissed him back gladly and moved closer—she needed him to know she had no plans of going anywhere. 

            The kiss intensified the longer their lips were joined, and he slid one arm around her lower half, gripping her waist as his other hand rested beneath her shoulder blade.  She rested her hands on his cheeks and caressed them, enjoying every moment of the contact. 

            Eventually, Lucius pulled back and rested his forehead against hers with a sigh.  “I wish I could stay in here with you forever,” he said.

            Narcissa knew he was no happier about parting than she was; she could easily see the reluctance in his expression.  She brushed her fingers gently over his cheek and worked hard to catch her breath.  “I wish that, too,” she said.  “And when this day is over, we can come back and shut out the world.  I will be right here with you then, and I will now, as well.  You will not have to face this alone.”

            Lucius kissed her nose.  “Thank you, my rose,” he breathed.  “I can’t face this without you.” He took her hand and guided her out into the hallway.  “Have I mentioned how much I love you, lately?”

            “Perhaps.” She smiled slightly.  “But I always enjoy hearing it.” She kissed his cheek.  “And I love you very much.”

            He kissed her temple as they started down the stairs.

            “Then I’ll be sure to remind you every chance I get.  I love you.” He squeezed her side gently and stopped a few steps from the bottom.  “I can do this… we can do this.”

            Narcissa wrapped her arm around his back.  “We can.  Everything is going to be okay.  It’s just going to be people who love you—we’re all here to support you.”

            Lucius nodded, took in a deep breath, and let it out again before leading her down the rest of the stairs.  “I want to see my mother, first.  She’ll want to see me in my father’s robes.”

            Narcissa nodded, remaining as close to him as possible.  “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” She glanced down at his hand resting on her waist and spotted his silver cufflinks emblazoned with the Malfoy crest. 

            When they reached the drawing room, Seraphina looked up and froze.  After a moment, she stood from her seat beside Asherah and made her way over to the doorway, pulling Lucius into her arms. 

            “You look… very handsome,” she said.

            “Thank you, Mother.  I hope you don’t mind me wearing his robes.  I’d hate to bring pain to you, but I wanted to honor Father.”

            Seraphina kissed his cheek.  “I’m glad you did.  You always bring honor to him, and to me.  Please, come and sit, both of you.” She embraced Narcissa as well and beckoned them over to the chaise across from where she’d been sitting with Asherah. 

            Narcissa caught sight of the breakfast tray sitting on the table in front of them, and she had to smile.  She took her seat beside Lucius and gripped his knee tightly, determined to ensure that he knew she would be with him through this and through whatever followed. 


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius attends his father's funeral and a supper excursion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapters 42-44 have been modified for continuity issues. x

Lucius’s head was spinning.  He’d practically detached from himself due to the overwhelming amount of people he’d been forced to see—he really didn’t feel like he’d been given time to grieve his father.  Throughout the service, he’d stayed very close to his mother, hoping to give her support, and Narcissa, accepting the support she offered him.  The image of his father’s casket closing and the realization that he’d never see him again had made Lucius extremely ill and weak.  He’d managed to keep it together, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on.  Now that he, his mother, Aunt Asherah, and Narcissa were standing in front of the Malfoy family crypt as guests approached them with repeated condolences, he was finding himself shutting down further.  When his mother’s sister Elena approached him with a hug, it took all of his energy to wrap his arms around her.

            “I’ll be fine,” he barely muttered into her ear.  He wasn’t trying to be rude—he simply had no more energy.

            Elena let out a sigh and nodded.  “I know you will.  You’re strong.  But if you do decide you need anything at all, we’re here for you.” She gave him another squeeze and then shifted down the line to speak with Seraphina.

            Lucius kept his focus forward, and he gasped when he was suddenly pulled into another hug.  He relaxed when he realized who it was—his cousin Avalon, who had been a year ahead of him in school and who had been more of a sister to him while growing up than a cousin. 

            “I’m sorry,” she said.  “You shouldn’t have to go through something like this.”

            “Thanks, Av,” Lucius whispered.  “I’m so bloody tired of being here.  All these apologies and condolences are driving me mad.”

            “I understand.” Avalon sighed.  “If you want a break from all of it, I’d like to take you out for supper, if you’re free this evening.  I think getting out of here for a little while would be good for you.  Bring whoever you like.  My treat.”

            “I’d like that very much.  I’ll bring Narcissa, and the two of you can get to know one another a little better.”

            “That sounds perfect.” Avalon squeezed Lucius’s hand before stepping back and moving down the line to speak with her aunt. 

            Lucius looked toward Narcissa, and he froze.  Augustus stood in front of her, his arms around her and his hands running along her back.  Her posture was rigid. 

            Lucius shifted closer to his fiancée.   

            “Rookwood,” he said through gritted teeth.

            “Malfoy.” Augustus pulled back from Narcissa, who edged closer to Lucius.  “I’d like to offer you my deepest sympathies.”

            Lucius smiled politely.  “While I appreciate that, I would appreciate it more if you would kindly put space between my fiancée and yourself.”

            Augustus frowned deeply.  “Lucius—”

            “I really don’t have the patience to deal with this, right now.” A voice at the back of Lucius’s mind told him he should stop talking before this got out of hand, but he was too stressed to care whether he was being rational about the situation, at the moment. 

            Augustus held his gaze for a long moment at then turned away, dissolving back into the crowd.   

            Narcissa embraced Lucius tightly and rested her head against his shoulder.

            “Thank you.  Ignore him,” she said quietly.  “It’s going to be fine.”

            Lucius leaned close and pecked her lips.  “I love you.  I’m sorry—I didn’t see what was going on, but I had a bad feeling.”

            “I love you so much,” Narcissa said quietly.  “Let’s not worry about any of that right now, okay?” 

            He rested his cheek against the top of her head.  “I don’t ever want to lose you to someone else, I couldn’t—”

            Lucius paused when he felt another set of arms encircle Narcissa and himself. 

            “I’m sorry,” said a voice he recognized immediately as belonging to Lenore.  “I hope you know we’re here for you.”

            Lucius pulled back enough to look at her, though he kept his arm around Narcissa’s waist.  He tried to smile at Lenore and Walden, who stood beside her.  A glance to his left revealed that Walden’s younger sister Meg had accompanied them. 

            “Thank you, Lenny,” said Lucius.

            “Thank you for coming,” Narcissa told the group. 

            “We wouldn’t miss it,” said Lenore, glancing to Walden and then to Lucius.  “Your father was wonderful, and you’re... well, you’re family.”

            Lucius held tightly to Narcissa as he listened, trying hard to focus on their two best friends but finding it difficult with everything that had happened with Augustus and with the mental fog that had surrounded him since he’d begun grieving his father.

            “You’re like a brother to me, mate,” said Walden.  “And your father and mother have always been like second parents.  I guess I’m trying to say... Well, the thing is...”

            Walden appeared to be struggling for words, and Lucius interjected.

            “We love you, too.  You’re our family.”

            Lenore smiled slightly and reached out to squeeze Lucius’s and Narcissa’s hands.

            “Glad to hear it,” she said.

            Lucius felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Minister Eugenia Jenkins standing before him.

            “I’m terribly sorry, Lucius.  If you need anything, remember you’ve always got friends in the Ministry.”

            Lucius mustered the best smile he possibly could.  “Thank you. That means so much to me, and I know it would have meant so much to my father, as well.” He wanted to be respectful and wait to return his attention back to the others to invite them to join in on the supper plans until after the Minister had gone.

            “I owe quite a bit to your father.” Jenkins squeezed his shoulder.  “You remind me quite a lot of him.  I know you’ll do great things.  Again, I’m sorry.”

            Lucius nodded, and Jenkins shifted down the line to speak with Seraphina.  Lucius felt Narcissa’s arm slide around his back and her soft lips brush against his cheek.   

            “You already do great things,” she said quietly.  “You are great, and you always will be.”

            Lucius smiled and turned his head to meet her lips for a moment.  He found it hard to pull himself away, but knew he shouldn't behave in such a way in public.  He drew back, his gaze focused on her eyes, and then leaned his forehead against hers.  

            “I’m sorry.  I’m—I just need to be near you, now,” he whispered.

            She nodded.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

            He pecked her lips and turned his attention to Lenore and Walden.  “We’re going to The Three Broomsticks with Av later, and I’d love the lot of you to join.”

            Lenore nodded quickly.  “That sounds perfect.  I’m starved.”

            “So am I,” said Meg from behind her, moving a bit closer.  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” she added quietly to Lucius, who smiled at her. 

            “Brilliant! I’m starving, too.  What time?” asked Walden.

            “In a few hours—let’s say six?” said Lucius.

            Lenore nodded and squeezed Walden’s hand.  “That will be lovely.”

            Lucius leaned in toward Narcissa’s ear.  “I need to check on my mother, and then I need to lie down before we go.”

            “Take as much time as you need,” Narcissa said quietly.  “I’ll lie down with you, if you like.  I can’t hold you for as long as I want to while we’re out here.”

            Lucius placed his hands on her cheeks and kissed her lips lovingly again, shutting out the entire world around them.  He knew this was severely frowned upon, but his father was dead; he’d love for someone to try to judge him, right now—he would love to send a good hex someone’s way.  After a few moments, he pulled back and kissed her nose and nuzzled it.  

            “Thank you.  I’ll meet you in my room in a little while.  I love you—I’ll see the rest of you, later,” he told his friend group at large.  

            “I love you,” said Narcissa.  “I’ll be there.”

            Lucius made his way over to his mother and slid his arm around her waist as he leaned close to speak in her ear.  “Should we go inside?” he asked her softly.

            Seraphina nodded with a sigh.  “Yes, please.”

            Lucius guided his mother inside the house and to her room.  When they arrived, he closed the door and turned toward her.  “Mother?”

            “Yes, love?”

            Lucius stepped toward his mother and slid his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace.  “Are you all right?”

            Seraphina rested her head against his shoulder.  “I wish I could say yes.” She drew in a long breath and let it out again.  “All of this just makes it real, and I can’t deny it anymore, no matter how hard I try.”

            Lucius nodded.  “I know what you mean,” he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Mother.  If I could, I’d bring him back to you."

            Seraphina kissed her son’s cheek and held him tighter.  “Thank you, love.  I know.  How are you doing?” She rubbed his back gently.

            He shook his head and guided his mother over to the couch that sat by the fireplace, where he sat down, gently pulling her close.  “I’m worried for you.”

            “There’s no need to worry,” she said as she rested her head against his shoulder.  “I... yes, I’m in pain, Lucius.  I can’t lie to you—it hurts every moment, absolutely every second.  But...” She paused, and Lucius supposed she was trying to think of somewhere positive to go with her statement.  Several moments passed, and she began to weep against his shoulder.

            Lucius let out a sigh and held his mother close, glad that she’d allowed her walls to fall.  He rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her as she released all her pain.

            “I’m sorry,” she said through her sobs.  “I want to be strong.  I can’t be like this.”

            Lucius shook his head.  “Stop that,” he said firmly but lovingly.  “You’re grieving.” He kissed her forehead.  “Now, why don’t you get out of these clothes and lie down for a while? I’ll make sure that Dobby prepares some tea for you, as well.  And if you need someone, I’m here, Mother.”

            Seraphina took in a long breath and let it out again.  “Thank you, my love.  You are a remarkable young man, and I hope you know that I’m very proud of you.”

            “Thank you, Mother.  I love you.”

            “And I love you.”

            She kissed his cheek and stood, giving his hand a squeeze before making her way over to the closet and turning on the light within as she stepped inside it. 

            Lucius called Dobby and asked him to prepare tea for his mother before she slept.  He then made his way out into the hall, where he processed that his heart was pounding—the emotions that had been running high all day and the realization that his father was gone overwhelmed him at once, making it difficult to breathe.

            Lucius rushed to his room and threw open the door.  He quickly closed it, and he began practically tearing his father’s suit off of himself. 

            “Got to get out. So itchy!” He couldn’t stop a few tears from sliding down his cheeks.  “Got to get out!” He was down to his button-up shirt and dress trousers, but he was getting frustrated and having a difficult time with the buttons.  “I’ve got it get out!” His voice came out much more quietly than he’d intended—his tears were preventing him from yelling.

            A moment later, Narcissa stood in front of him.  She was wearing a purple nightgown, and Lucius vaguely registered that the room had been dimmed to candlelight apart from the fire crackling in the pit.  She pressed a kiss to his nose before starting to unbutton his shirt. 

            “Lucius… Let me help you, darling.  It’s all right, it’s going to be fine.  We’ll get you out of them.”

            He let out a sigh and began to relax as he closed his eyes.  “Thank you.”

            When she’d worked open his shirt, she pushed it down off his shoulders and began to unbutton his trousers.  As she worked, she pressed kisses to his shoulder, his chest, his neck, his jaw.  When she’d removed his unwanted clothing, she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

            “Let’s lie down,” she said.  “The fire’s going, and bed will be much more comfortable than standing.”

            Lucius nodded, following her to the bed and sliding under the sheets and holding her close.  He was quiet except for a few noises of emotion he couldn’t contain every now and then.  He was beyond glad that Narcissa was here with him; he knew he couldn’t handle it without her.

            “I love you,” she assured him between kisses pressed to his hair and forehead.  “I’m right here.”

            Lucius buried his face in her chest, gripping her waist.  “I love you so much.  Thank you for not leaving me.”

            Narcissa ran her fingers through his hair.  “Never.  I will always be with you, and I will always love you.   And by the way, you said something earlier about... losing me to another.” She paused, and he felt her lips against his forehead once more.  “Never fear that.  I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.  You are the only one for me.”

            Lucius nodded as a wave of relief washed over him.  “I’m glad.  I’d kill anyone who dared to try.  I can’t bloody well murder Augustus—not yet, anyway.”

            Narcissa traced his cheek with her fingertips.  “I won’t stop you.  And please try not to let Augustus get to you.  He can’t begin to compare to you.”

            He leaned up to kiss her lips.  “I love you.  Thank you for sticking by me.”

            “You’re very welcome, and I love you so much.” She brought her lips to his again tenderly, her hand sliding along his back.

* * *

 

Lucius had changed into one of his laxer pairs of black robes and his emerald cloak and had made his way into Narcissa’s room.  He saw that her closet door was ajar and moved toward it quietly.  She stood at the closet’s center, smoothing the skirt of her long black dress into alignment, and he approached her from behind, sliding his hands around her thin frame and pulling her against his chest.  He kissed her neck softly.

            “I love you,” he reminded her.  He was feeling so desperate for her presence since his father’s death, and he felt the constant need to tell her how much she meant and how much he loved her.

            Narcissa tilted her head, exposing more of her skin.  “I love you so much,” she said.  She laid her hands atop his and stroked them gently with her fingertips.  “I’m very excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

            Lucius continued kissing the soft skin of her neck, and he smiled at her words.  “I feel the same way about being married to you, my rose,” he breathed. He held her close to his chest for several long moments before pulling back.  “We should go and check on Mother before we leave.”

            Narcissa turned around and kissed his lips softly.  “Yes, we should.  Perhaps we can bring her something to eat when we come home.” She slipped her fingers through his and started for the door, and Lucius chuckled softly. 

            “Yes, I bet she’d like that very much.”

            When they arrived in Seraphina’s chambers, she was sitting on the chaise, her head in the waste bin as sounds of sickness filled the air.  Lucius’s eyes widened.  He rushed over to the chaise and sat down beside his mother, placing his hand on her shoulder.

            “Mother? Mother, are you all right?”

            Seraphina nodded slowly.  “Yes, love, thank you.  I’m sure I'll be fine.  I’ve just been... unsettled, with all this.”

            Lucius wrapped his arm tightly around his mother and kissed her hair.  “Narcissa and I were going to go out to eat with Av and Walden and the others, but maybe we should stay here and look after you.”

            Seraphina shook her head as she lowered the can to the floor.  “I’ll be all right, my love.  I think getting out for a little while will be good for both of you.  Please try to enjoy yourselves.” She squeezed his shoulder.  “I’ll rest and I’ll be fine.”

            Lucius sighed, wanting to press further to make sure that his mother was all right.  He knew, though, that no matter what, she would insist they go.

            “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her temple.  “Can I at least bring you back some food from The Three Broomsticks?”

            She pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “I love you.  That would be lovely, thank you.  Soup might help.”

            Lucius smiled and nodded.  “Soup it is.  We won’t be out too late, Mother.” He squeezed her hand and stood, walking around to the back of the chaise to meet Narcissa, who stood behind it with her hand on Seraphina’s shoulder.

            “Thank you,” said Seraphina.  “Have a good time, my dears.”

            “Please get some rest,” said Narcissa as she slid her arm around Lucius.

            “I promise.” Seraphina made her way over to the bed and sat on its edge. 

* * *

Lucius retrieved their travel cloaks, scarves, mittens, hats, and gloves. After they were ready for the cold, he Apparated them to Hogsmeade.  Narcissa leaned against his shoulder as they moved toward The Three Broomsticks.  He held her close, kissing her hair every few steps they took—he sincerely hoped she was warm enough.  The ground was covered in snow, and the air was frigid.

            “I’m glad your cousin decided to invite us,” said Narcissa. 

            “As am I.”

            “Are the two of you close?”

            “Yes,” said Lucius, “she’s like an older sister to me.  We’ve basically grown up together.  I’ve seen a lot less of her since she got married right after school, but we’re close.”

            “That’s wonderful.  I’m glad you have that.” Narcissa gave his middle a squeeze.

            Lucius smiled.  “Thank you, and now you will, too.  Av is going to love you—the two of you will be like sisters.  I promise.”

            Narcissa nodded and pecked his cheek.  “I’m glad.  I’m sure I’ll love her, too.”

            When they entered the pub, Lucius spotted his blond-haired cousin sitting in a large corner booth.  Avalon waved them closer with a smile.

            “Glad you could make it!” she said as they reached the booth. 

            “We’re very thankful for the invite,” said Lucius, sitting down beside Narcissa. 

            Avalon nodded.  “Thought you could use some time away from home.  How’s your mum?”

            Lucius shrugged.  “I’m not actually sure.  And thank you.”

            “They’re over here.”

            Lucius looked up at the sound of Lenore’s voice to find her approaching with Walden.  The two of them slid into the booth, and Avalon glanced from them to Lucius and Narcissa.

            “Is it just the four of you, or shall we find a bigger space?” she asked.

            “Actually,” said Walden, “Meg’s getting drinks for everyone, and then there’s one more of us.”

            Lucius frowned.  “Who?” he asked incredulously.

            “Rookwood.”

            Lucius gritted his teeth.  “He can pull up a chair.”

            Narcissa squeezed his knee beneath the table.  He laid his hand on top of hers and kissed her temple, thankful for her presence and her reassuring touch. 

            “...Dare I ask what that’s about?” asked Lenore, watching Lucius with a raised brow. 

            He drew in a long breath, but before he could answer, Augustus approached with a chair and sat at the end of the table.

            “Sorry I’m late,” he said, grinning. 

            Narcissa scooted closer to Lucius, and he tightened his arm around her as he kissed her hair.

            Avalon shrugged.  “No trouble.  I think I’ve met all of you, but in passing.  I’m Avalon, and I’m Lucius’s cousin on Sera’s side.”

            Narcissa held out her free hand.  “Narcissa.  Soon to be your cousin-in-law,” she said with a smile as she and Avalon shook hands. 

            “I’m very excited to hear that,” said Avalon.  “And I know you, Walden, and—there she is.”

            Meg had appeared with a tray of Butterbeers that was now one short, and she sighed.  She distributed the drinks to everyone but herself and pulled up another chair, squeezing it up to the end of the table beside Augustus. 

            Lucius smiled at Walden’s younger sister.  “How’re you doing, Meg?” he asked, trying to make things less awkward.

            “I’m well, thank you.  Not looking forward to the start of term—Aunt Proserpina is a lot better of a housemate than the ones I’ve got at Hogwarts.  How about you?” She blushed, and Lucius understood; she meant ‘ _Other than in regards to your father, at least._ ’

            “I’m getting there,” he lied.

            He noticed Narcissa shift even closer to him, and he eyed her, trying to figure out what was wrong.  

            He kissed her temple and whispered, “Are you all right, my rose?” as Meg and Avalon launched into a discussion of their own. 

            Narcissa kissed Lucius’s cheek.  “I will be, love.  It’s fine.”

            He followed her gaze to find a pair of figures making their way toward the group, and his eyes narrowed. 

            _Thank the gods they had the sense to stay away from the funeral._

Thorfinn and Alecto were approaching, and judging by how closely they walked, Lucius supposed he’d missed something since the end of their school term.

            “Fancy seeing all of you here,” said Alecto, her lips drawn into an unpleasant smile. 

            “Keep moving, Carrow,” said Lenore flatly. 

            “We thought you should know what your insistence on running to Dumbledore has done.” Thorfinn rested his hand on the table between Narcissa and Augustus, and Lucius watched his fiancée’s face as it took on an expression suggesting she was going to be ill.  “Thanks to you, I may not be able to return to Hogwarts.”

            “Thanks to us?” Narcissa snapped, looking up at Thorfinn with a scowl.  “And how do you figure that’s our fault?”

            “Instead of dealing with things like civilized people,” Thorfinn drawled, “here we are.  Was it you who told the Headmaster about everything, Black? Or was it Malfoy?”

            Narcissa stood from her seat, drew back a hand, and slapped him across the cheek, and the instant she had, she froze, her cheeks reddening.  She shook her head.

            “Please excuse me,” she said.  She gave Lucius an apologetic glance and strode to the front of the pub. 

            Lucius stared after her, open-mouthed, and then slid out of the booth and to his feet as he glared daggers at Thorfinn.

            “I’ll deal with you,” he growled.  He stood and rushed across the pub after his fiancée. 

 


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa worries for Lucius after a fight and learns what has been causing Seraphina's illness. 
> 
> [Thank you to justforpractice on FFN for writing Lucius in chapters 35-43.]

Narcissa leaned against the wall outside The Three Broomsticks, hoping to clear her head and refrain from doing anything else she’d regret.

            _I can’t believe I actually slapped him.  I mean, he deserved it, but still… I hope no one saw that.  I’m going to ruin my image before I get the chance to make it.  I’ve been emancipated for less than a week, and here I am, fighting like a Muggle in a pub._

            Moments later, the door opened, and Lucius appeared at her side and wrapped his arms around her.  “Are you all right?” he asked.

            Narcissa leaned against him, closing her eyes tightly.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t deal with them, right now.” She’d been trying so hard to remain strong for the sake of her fiancé, who needed her now more than he ever had before.  She’d been trying to behave and keep herself firing on all cylinders, but she’d snapped.  She hadn’t the patience to deal with Thorfinn, especially now that she knew that her mother had been sneaking around with Thomas Rowle for Merlin-only-knew how long. 

            Lucius tightened his grip on her, and she felt tension shoot through him.  “I’m so sorry, my rose.” He pressed his lips to her hair as he rubbed her back.  “Nothing that has gone on with him is your fault, and I hope you know that.  Quite honestly… I wouldn’t be surprised if he put things together about your parents before we did.  I don’t know what he’s been trying to gain through all of this, but he won’t win.  I won’t allow it.”  He kissed his cheek before releasing her and opening the door.  She followed him back into the pub and watched with wide eyes as he returned to their table while she hung a few paces behind him.  “Stay with Narcissa—keep your eye on her,” he told Lenore, Avalon, and Meg.  “You, come with me,” he said to Thorfinn, grabbing him by the robes and pulling him toward the door.

            “Get the hell off of me!” Thorfinn shouted.  

            Lucius produced his wand and pressed it into Thorfinn’s side.  “Don’t think I won’t use magic.  At this point, I’d love to see them try to scold me.” He pulled Thorfinn by the robes toward the door, and Narcissa stepped to the side as they passed, pursued by Alecto.  “Macnair.  Rookwood,” Lucius called, gesturing with his head for Walden and Augustus to follow.  The group moved out the door, and Narcissa slowly made her way back to her seat.

            “What’s going on?” asked Avalon.

            Narcissa kept her eyes on the table.  “Thorfinn is...” She sighed.  “Difficult.” She took a very long drink of Butterbeer.

            Lenore took a swig of her own drink and lowered it to the table.  “He’s a bloody nightmare is what he is.  Druella tried to force Cissy to marry him, and now that he’s been told to shove off, he’s not handling it well.”

            Narcissa drummed her fingers on the table. She didn’t want to ruin the mood; she knew they’d all been trying to enjoy themselves.  She knew, though, that the damage was probably done.

            “Lucius and I saw Thorfinn’s father with my mother.  I think she was using me to get closer to him.”

            “That’s terrible,” muttered Meg.

            Avalon scooted close to Narcissa, wrapping her arm around her and reaching out for her hand.  “You poor, dear.”

            Lenore’s grip on her mug tightened until her knuckles paled.  “You’re not going back to her, are you?”

            Narcissa leaned against Avalon with a sigh.  “Thank you.  No, thankfully, I’m not going home.  Your uncle persuaded the Minister to expedite emancipation papers for me, and now I’m officially free to marry Lucius and stay at Malfoy Manor with Lucius and they can’t say a word about it.” She caught sight of the image creeping out from beneath the sleeve of Avalon’s dress along the side of her wrist, and she froze.  _A silver snake._ “Was that there before?” she asked quietly, looking up into the other girl’s face.

            Avalon’s eyes widened, and she quickly pulled her sleeve down over her wrist.  “Uh—It—” She drew in a long breath and let it out again.  “It’s new. Very new.”

            Narcissa considered for a moment.  She knew well that the patronus in question belonged to Augustus.  He’d demonstrated it for their group of friends one evening at Hogwarts after marks had appeared on Walden and Lenore.  She didn’t know what to make of Augustus, at the moment, but she didn’t plan to unsettle Avalon with her worries, which were likely unnecessary.

            “That’s wonderful,” she said.  “I’m very happy for you.  It’s a lovely thing, when it happens.”

            Avalon sighed and rested her chin in her hand.  “I guess... My track record with men hasn’t been that great of one.  I don’t know if Lucius has told you, but I’m in the process of getting divorced.”

            Narcissa reached out to lay a hand on Avalon’s shoulder, frowning sympathetically.  “I’m so sorry.  Don’t worry—this will be different.  You’re meant to be together.”

             “I had a hard time believing all that, at first,” said Lenore, “but it’s definitely true.  I wouldn’t know what to do without Walden.”

            Avalon nodded.  “Thanks.  But look at your men.  I mean, Lucius and Walden are wonderful.  Unfortunately, Lucius is my cousin and Walden is practically family.” She shook her head.  “Don’t worry, I don’t hang my eye on them or anything,” she said with a chuckle.  “I just... I don’t believe love is for me.”

            Narcissa knew how difficult it could be to watch others fall in love and be afraid she would never experience it.  “It’ll happen, Av,” she said softly.  “He—whoever he is—will be lucky to have you.”

            Avalon smiled and hugged her.  “Thanks, Narcissa.  That means loads to me.”

            “Anytime.  And thank you for being so good to Lucius—I know he thinks the world of you.” Narcissa paused and frowned.  “They’ve been gone quite a while.” Worry spread through her as she wondered what the boys were doing and what was keeping them. 

            Lenore sat up straighter and looked toward the window.  “They have.  We should go and make sure they’re all right.” She downed the rest of her Butterbeer and stood.

            “Yes, we should.” Narcissa nodded and took a drink before pushing back her chair.  Her heart was pounding—if Lucius was in danger in any way because of her inability to handle Thorfinn and Alecto, she wouldn’t forgive herself.  “Thank you for the drinks, by the way, Meg.  You’ll have to let us repay you.”

            Meg shook her head.  “Just let me come and visit and we’ll call it even.”

            “Deal,” said Narcissa.  She started for the front of the pub, and the others joined her.

            The second she opened the door, Narcissa let out a scream and rushed over to throw herself down in the snow beside Lucius, who was lying still, his face bloodied.   _This is not happening.  This is not happening.  Please wake up, please..._

            At the edge of her vision, she saw Lenore crouch beside Walden, who was also unmoving on the ground.  Meg moved closer, her hands covering her mouth. 

            Narcissa saw Avalon crouch between where the two had fallen, and she found it hard to think past the roaring of her pulse in her ears and the red liquid staining Lucius’s cheeks from what looked like a broken nose.

            Narcissa felt ice running through her veins at the sight in front of her.  How in Merlin’s name had this happened? How had things gotten so out of control so quickly, and where were Thorfinn and Alecto? And Augustus? Narcissa was trembling with rage and sadness and guilt, and she was frozen until she saw Avalon produce her wand and heard her begin to run through a series of charms.  Narcissa’s stomach turned. Of all the bloody times to be underage.  Honestly, she no longer cared if the Ministry had a problem with anything she did.  She was legally emancipated—shouldn’t she be able to do something to help Lucius instead of sitting here uselessly? She casually slid out her wand and muttered a few healing spells, hoping to do enough to stop the bleeding, at least, and get him well enough to travel.  She silently prayed the others didn’t notice.

            “Cissy, we need to get them to Seraphina,” called Lenore.  “She can heal them."

            “Lenny’s right,” said Avalon, “we need to get them to Aunt Sera.  I can heal them to the best of my ability, but she needs to examine them for permanent damage.  I can Apparate us home, and you girls meet me there by Floo.”

            “You better be all right, dammit,” Narcissa heard Lenore mutter as she pulled Walden close to her.  “Cissy, come on, we’ll meet her there.”

            Narcissa nodded stiffly.  She couldn’t force herself to move, for a moment—she could only stare at the blood and the pale, broken skin of her soulmate, who’d sustained these injuries trying to protect her.  She leaned down to slide her arms around him and touched her lips to his softly. 

            “I’m sorry,” she breathed.  “Please wake up, my lion. I love you.” She kissed his nose and drew back a bit to lift him and shift him carefully over to Avalon.

            Narcissa and Lenore clung to one another as they traveled through the fireplace.  Lenore wept against Narcissa’s shoulder, and Narcissa found herself unable to hold back her tears any longer at the sounds of her friend’s pain as the reality of the situation settled over them.  When they arrived in Malfoy Manor’s drawing room, Lenore pulled back and leapt toward Walden.  Narcissa made her way over to Lucius on the opposite sofa as quickly as she could and shifted him gently as she sat beside him.  She brought his head to rest in her lap as she watched his face and stroked his hair with trembling fingers.

            “I love you,” she said quietly.  “Come back to me, please.”

            Meg emerged from the fireplace a moment later, and Avalon hurried into the room shortly thereafter with Seraphina, who gasped in terror and rushed toward the couches.  Avalon pulled the trembling Meg into her arms.  Seraphina whipped out her wand, and she began making her way through more healing spells than Narcissa had ever heard, alternating between the boys in her casting. 

            Lucius inhaled and sat up quickly, his entire body tensed as though he was expecting another fight.  “I’m going to—what in Merlin’s name?”

            Narcissa gasped and let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she dared without risking hurting him.  “Breathe, Luc.  My love, you’re home.” She closed her eyes and held on to him, trying to stop her tears but knowing she was unsuccessful.  “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

            Lucius turned toward Narcissa and hugged her tightly.  “Thank gods,” he breathed.  He buried his face in her neck and kissed her skin.

            Walden blinked awake slowly.  “Lenny? What’s going on?” He reached out and rested his hand on her arm.

            Lenore gasped and continued to weep.  “I was just wondering the same thing,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.  She kissed his forehead and held him close.

            Seraphina sank into an armchair, her posture relaxing. 

            Narcissa vaguely registered the others continuing to talk, but she couldn’t focus on what anyone was saying.  She turned her head to press her lips to Lucius’s pale blond hair.  “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, rubbing his back and savoring the touch of his lips on her neck.  “I didn’t mean to put you in danger.” She kissed his hair once again.  “I’m going to make it up to you.”

            Lucius drew back and shook his head, kissing Narcissa nose.  “Stop that,” he insisted quietly.  “You did absolutely nothing of the sort, my rose.” Lucius looked to his mother and sighed.  He ran his lips along Narcissa’s hair.  “Give me just a moment to make sure my mother is all right, and then you and I will go somewhere private.”

            Narcissa nodded and tried to believe that this wasn’t her fault.  She kissed his cheek and nuzzled his neck.  “All right, my love.  Take as much time as you need.  I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

            Lucius kissed her lips, holding her close to him.  “I’ll be right back,” he breathed.  “I love you.  Gods, I love you.”

            Narcissa returned his kiss and traced his cheek, smiling.  “I love you with all my heart.”

            He stood and made his way over to his mother, and as Narcissa watched him go, she caught sight of Lenore rushing out of the room followed by Walden.  She blinked and wondered whether she should try to help or stay out of whatever had happened while she’d been focused on Lucius. 

            _I know I hate it when they try to interfere,_ she thought.  _I’ll go and check on them soon._

            “Mother?” Lucius bent down to meet Seraphina at eye-level where she sat.

            Seraphina smiled, though the gesture seemed strained.  “Yes, love? How are you feeling?”

            Lucius placed his hands on his mother’s cheeks and sighed.  “You’re not okay, Mother—I can read right through your mask.  Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

            Seraphina’s shoulders fell slightly.  “I can’t lose you, too.  I was petrified, when I saw you so hurt.  But you’re safe, now, and everything will be all right.”

            Lucius sighed and wrapped his arms around his mother.  “I am.  I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m not sorry for defending Narcissa.  Thorfinn has treated her incredibly poorly, and then when I went to confront him, my head wasn’t on well enough to handle the situation.  I suppose Rookwood chased off him and Carrow, but I’ll have to find out later, I suppose.”

            Seraphina kissed his cheek and nodded.  “I understand.  Rest assured that Rowle and Carrow will not be allowed to behave like this again.” She met Narcissa’s eyes over Lucius’s shoulder.  “Are you all right, love?”

            Narcissa nodded.  “Yes, thank you.  I owe Lucius for that.”

            Seraphina gave her son’s arms a squeeze.  “I’m proud of you,” she said.  “That was very brave.”

            Lucius smiled at his mother and then at Narcissa.  “Thank you.  I’d never let anything happen to her.”

            “I know you wouldn’t,” said Seraphina.

            “Mother, we’re going to head on upstairs to lie down.” Lucius kissed the top of his mother’s head and stood.

            Seraphina squeezed his hand and nodded.  “Get some rest.  You both need it.”

            Narcissa smiled, trying not to blush as she realized how much she enjoyed Lucius’s protectiveness.  She stood and took his hand, leaning up to kiss his cheek.  “Shall we?” she asked.

            Lucius smiled and kissed Narcissa’s temple as they left the room.  “Are you all right?” he asked.

            Narcissa leaned her head against his shoulder.  She kept a tight grip on his hand, determined not to let any distance emerge between them as they made their way down the corridor.  She’d been so terrified when he’d been unresponsive, and she’d realized that even people they’d considered friends couldn’t be trusted and that the person she loved more than anything could be hurt.

             “I will be,” she said.  “I’m just glad you’re awake and feeling better.  I absolutely hate that you got hurt, and... well, thank you for defending me.”

            Lucius stopped in his tracks and pushed her gently against the wall.  Narcissa gasped quietly and slid her arms around Lucius’s neck, pulling him as close as she could as he practically crushed her lips with his.

            “I’m here,” he breathed between kisses.  “I’m so very sorry I worried you.”

            “It’s not your fault,” she said, pulling back a millimeter.  _I’m going to throttle those fools._  “I’m so happy that you’re safe.  I love you.” Meeting his lips once again, she began to rub his shoulders. 

            After a few moments, he swept her off her feet and carried her up the stairs and laid her down in bed, where he climbed beneath the covers beside her.

            “I’m here, my rose,” he said.

            Narcissa scooted as close to him as she could, holding tightly to his robes.  “I love you.  And I hope you know I’m going to study up on every healing spell I can get my hands on.” If he was going to be out fighting for the Dark Lord, he was certain to come home with more injuries—worse ones than this, as much as she hated to admit it—and she had to be prepared to help him.

            He smiled and kissed her lips.  “I love you.” After a few moments, he pulled back, frowning as he moved a strand of hair from her face, his eyes on hers.  “Out of everyone who wanted you, you chose me…”

            Narcissa leaned toward his touch.  “You’re the only one I’ll ever want.  Even before our marks appeared, I think part of me realized that.  It’s always been you, Lucius.”

            He nodded.  “So… without the mark, I still would have been yours?” he asked, kissing her nose.

            Narcissa’s face fell as the reality of his words dawned on her.  He doubted that? “Of course,” she said.  “Even without it, I would always choose you.  It just gave me the confidence I needed to admit how I felt—without it, I would’ve found another reason to work up the courage to tell you.”

            Lucius smiled.  “I’ve always loved you.” He kissed her once more, and she raised her hand to trail her fingers through his hair.

            “That makes me unbelievably happy,” she said.  “And I’ve always loved you.” She smiled and nipped at his lip. 

            “You make me happy.” He pecked her nose.  “Cissy, I—” Lucius paused and lowered his gaze.  “I wanted to kill Thorfinn for the things he’s done to you.  Alecto, too.”

            Narcissa watched him closely.  She could tell he wasn’t happy that he’d wanted something so severe. “Look at me, my lion.” She rested her hand on his cheek and gently guided his face upward.  “I understand.  I won’t fault you for that.  I don’t entirely trust that I wouldn’t have done the same, when Alecto kissed you.  Or when Thorfinn hurt you.  Or now.” She let out a sigh. 

            “Why is everyone determined to break us apart?” Lucius’s tone was laden with frustration.  He leaned in and captured her lips fiercely. 

            Narcissa kissed him back passionately, not attempting to restrain herself.  “They won’t,” she breathed between kisses, her stomach fluttering as she wrapped her leg around his.

            “They better not.” Lucius kissed her for a few moments longer and then pulled back to touch his lips to her nose.  “Out of all the times to run into them again, it had to be the night of my father’s funeral…” He trailed off, his eyes filling with tears, and leaned down to rest his face against her neck.  “I miss my father, Cissy.  I miss him so much.”

            Narcissa’s heart sank, and she slid her arms around him tightly, turning her head to press her lips to his hair.  “I know, my love,” she said softly as she felt his tears against her skin.  “I know.  There’s nothing wrong with that.” She rubbed his back gently.  She couldn’t imagine how difficult all this had to be for him, and she didn’t know how he managed to keep himself together.  “He knew how much you loved him.  I know he did.”

            “But… I—I wanted more time with him.” Lucius’s grip on her slackened gradually.  “I’m tired, Cissy.  I’m tired and angry.”

            “You deserved more time with him.  And you have every right to be tired and angry.” Narcissa continued rubbing along his back and kissing his hair and his cheek.  “It isn’t fair that this has happened.  You need to rest, my love.”

            Lucius sighed.  “I promise I’ll rest, but please promise that you won’t leave me while I do.”

            Narcissa ran her hands along his shoulders.  “I promise.  But can I go and get you some tea before you rest, then? I promise I’ll be right back.”

            Lucius gave her waist a squeeze and pressed a kiss to her lips.  “Yes.  Please come back soon.”

            “I promise.  I’ll be right back, and then I won’t have to get up again until we decide we’re ready to.  I love you.” She kissed his nose and climbed out of bed, pulling on her robe before starting down the hall.

            Narcissa moved down the hall, and at the sight of a light on within Seraphina’s chambers, she decided to take a moment to check on her future mother-in-law, especially considering how ill Seraphina had been earlier.  Narcissa knocked on the door quietly.

            “Sera? Are you all right?”

            “Yes, dear,” said Seraphina’s voice through the door.  “Come in.”

            Narcissa pushed open the door to find Seraphina sitting on the chaise, holding her head in her hands. 

            “I’m about to go and get Lucius some tea,” said Narcissa, moving closer and resting her hand on Seraphina’s shoulder.  “Would you like some?”

            Seraphina smiled.  “That would be lovely.  Peppermint, please; my stomach is misbehaving.”

            “Of course.  I’ll be right back.”

            Narcissa hurried down to the kitchen and returned shortly with the tea tray.  She passed a cup to Seraphina.  “Is there anything else you need?”

            After only a moment of observing, Narcissa realized how downhill the mood seemed to have gone.  Seraphina appeared to have been crying, and she wiped her eyes before answering.

            “I’m pregnant.”

            Narcissa lost her grip on the tea tray momentarily. 

            She caught it before the tea could do more than slosh over a bit onto the tray, but she was still uncertain as to whether she’d heard properly.  “You… oh, Merlin.” She set the tray on the table and sat, pulling Seraphina into her arms.  _I can’t even imagine…_

Seraphina trembled and wept as she spoke, clinging to Narcissa’s dress.  “He should be here to celebrate.  This is supposed to be a joyous time in our lives.”

            Narcissa closed her eyes and rubbed Seraphina’s back.  “I know,” she breathed, holding her future mother-in-law close.  “He would be so happy to know this is happening.  You’re going to have another piece of him to hold onto and another child who is going to adore you.”

            “I know… I know, you’re right.” Seraphina pulled back and wiped her eyes once more.  “I’m sorry, dear.”

            “Don’t be sorry.  This has to be incredibly hard for you, and I wish I knew how to help more.”

            Seraphina smiled and placed her hand on Narcissa’s cheek.  “You’re everything I hoped for in a daughter-in-law.  What you can do for me, my sweet dear, is take care of my son—he’s not taking all this so well, and I worry for him.”

            “Thank you.  And I promise I will.” Narcissa sighed.  “I’m worried, as well.  I wish I knew how to make this easier on him.  Lucius deserves to be happy, and I wish I knew how to take away the pain, but I know it’s not that easy.”

            Seraphina nodded.  “I know, love.  I believe the best thing for you to do is to stay by his side during this devastating time.”

            “I agree.  I should get back with the tea.  How do you want to handle telling him the news?”

            “Would you mind waiting until we’re all rested and I’ll announce it during breakfast?’

            “That sounds like a good idea.” Narcissa leaned forward to embrace Seraphina once again.  “Please let me know if you need anything.  I want to help in any way I can.

            Seraphina squeezed her tightly.  “I will.  You’ve been so much help, dear.”

            “I’m very glad.” Narcissa stood.  “I’ll check on you first thing in the morning.  Goodnight, Sera.”

            She carried the tea with her back to the room where she’d left Lucius.

            “Sorry I took so long, my love,” she said as she closed the door.

            Lucius sat up and leaned against the headboard.  “It’s absolutely fine, my rose.”

            Narcissa smiled and set the tray on the table, filling another cup and making her way over to sit beside him as she passed him the tea.  “Hopefully this helps.” She leaned back against the headboard and rested her head against his shoulder.

            Lucius took a few sips of his tea and shifted it to the side table before lying down, and Narcissa lay beside him. 

            “It’s perfect,” he said as he kissed the top of her head. 

            “Then it suits you nicely.” She wrapped her arm around him.  “I love you.”

            “I love you.” He lifted her chin and kissed her passionately. 

            Narcissa traced his cheek with her fingertips, and when he pulled back, she rested her head against his chest.  “Tomorrow will be better,” she said.  “I promise.”


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius receives a few pieces of news he isn't certain how to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 42-44 have been edited heavily. Thank you for your patience. x

Lucius stared into the dormant fireplace without seeing the stone or the logs.  He was trying hard to shake away the mental fog that had surrounded him since the loss of his father and pull himself together, and this was proving much more difficult than he’d planned.

* * *

_“What are all these for, Father?” Lucius ran his fingertips over the sealed letters covering his father’s desk as he watched Abraxas sort through a stack of papers that towered over the boy’s head._

_“Connections.  You’ll understand, one day.  Communication is the way to ensure our family’s future—alliances.  It’ll come easily to you, when you’re older.  You’ll make friends in high places, and you’ll be respected.”_

* * *

Lucius bit back a sigh.  He’d done decently in terms of friends; he had allies in the Ministry, according to Eugenia Jenkins.  He was respected by the majority of his peers, barring the ones with whom he’d had disagreements, and though that number seemed to be on the rise lately, the amount of people who thought highly of him still outweighed those who did not. 

            He glanced over to the bed and watched the peaceful expression Narcissa wore as she slept.  Her worries were nowhere to be found, and her hand rested over the spot where his heart had been when he’d lain beside her before getting up quietly to gather his thoughts.  Lucius didn’t particularly mind making enemies, if doing so ensured her safety.  Just when he’d thought they would be left to themselves now that their ordeal with Rowle was—in theory—at an end and now that Narcissa was free of her parents, they’d been blindsided. 

            _Who are we supposed to trust?_

            He shook his head as he looked back into the fireplace, his hand moving unconsciously to his abdomen, where Thorfinn had landed his first blow before the one to the nose that had been too much to bear.  Augustus had been there when things had turned violent but not when Lucius and Walden had awoken, and Lucius could only hope something worse hadn’t happened to him.  Lucius severely regretted snapping at Augustus at the funeral.  He supposed he’d allowed his insecurities and fears of losing Narcissa to get the better of him—Walden had told him that Augustus held feelings for her, after all, and the last thing Lucius needed at the moment was to make another enemy. 

He knew he and Narcissa could trust Walden and Lenore, at least, and Avalon.  A pang of regret shot through Lucius’s stomach as he recalled that he hadn’t gone to check on any of them after they’d returned from the scuffle at The Three Broomsticks.  He greatly appreciated how willing Walden had been to help him, and he hated that they’d both managed to be injured and frighten everyone who cared about them in the process.  _I’ll go and find them all and thank them for sticking by us,_ he thought.  He’d yet to have the conversation, but he knew he wanted Walden to serve as best man in his wedding. 

            Lucius heard a soft yawn from behind him, and he turned toward the sound, smiling as he watched Narcissa stretch.  He stood and moved over to the bed, and he sat beside her before leaning down to kiss her lips gently.

            “Good morning,” he muttered.

            “Good morning.” She rested her hand against his cheek, and he leaned into her touch.  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

            “Better.  I’m fairly certain that’s due to you.” Smiling, he moved a lock of blond hair from her eyes.  “Do you want to go down to breakfast?”

            “I’d love to.” Narcissa sat up and slid her arms around him, and Lucius rested his head against her shoulder as he closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself focus on the fact that no matter what else happened or who or what else he lost, he had her, and that was wonderful. 

* * *

When they reached the dining room, Lucius found that his mother was already seated.  She looked up at him and Narcissa with a smile, and he recognized the look her grey eyes took on when she was burning to say something but trying to hold herself back for one reason or another. 

            “Morning, Mother,” he said, moving over to give her hand a squeeze before pulling out Narcissa’s chair and waiting until she sat to take his own beside her.  “How are you?” he asked his mother.

            Seraphina took a sip of her tea.  “I’m well, thank you, love.  Walden told me to give you both his regards and that he wants to speak with you as soon as you’re feeling up to it.  Judging by the smiles he and Lenore were wearing when they left, I think it’s fair to say something exciting has happened.”

            Lucius raised a brow and exchanged glances with Narcissa, who shrugged with a smile. 

            “I’ll have to write Lenore,” she said.  “If it’s all right with both of you, I’d like to have them over for supper one day, as well as Meg and Avalon—we didn’t exactly get to finish our meal, and I feel terrible for causing such a ruckus.”

            Lucius reached out to slip his fingers through hers and gave her hand a soft squeeze.  “You didn’t, my rose.  It wasn’t your fault.  But I think it’s a great idea.”

            “As do I,” said Seraphina, nodding.  “One of them, though, you can mention it to more easily than via owl.” She glanced toward the kitchen, and Lucius watched as Avalon entered behind Dobby, who was carrying several precariously balanced trays of food.  The elf placed the trays on the table and poured tea for everyone, and then he scurried back into the kitchen. 

            “Lovely to see you all,” said Avalon, settling into the seat to Seraphina’s right.  Since the loss of Abraxas, no one had mentioned the vacancy at the head of the table, but everyone had avoided the chair. 

            “Av wanted to stay the night just in case we needed any additional help,” said Seraphina.  “Having more people around with experience in healing always seems to be wise, nowadays.”

            “I didn’t recognize all of the spells you used yesterday,” Narcissa told Avalon.  “Have you studied quite a few of them?”

            Avalon nodded.  “Yes.  I’ve started an apothecary in Diagon Alley, and I’m trying to learn as much as I can.  Business is slow, at the moment, but it’s a start.”

            “Would you consider teaching me? I want to be prepared.”

            Lucius felt Narcissa’s hand close around his knee beneath the table, and his heart squeezed.  _Prepared for what’s going to happen to me in the future, which will certainly be worse than a few punches._ He hated that she was so clearly worried for him and that he didn’t know how to prevent her fears from coming to pass.  He gripped her hand tightly, hoping to at least reassure her that he was all right, for the moment. 

            “I’d be happy to,” said Avalon with a smile.  “We’re family, now.  It’s the least I can do.”

            “Thank you,” said Narcissa.  “And I’d like to try our meal again with the others, sometime soon.”

            Avalon nodded.  “That would be perfect.”

            “Speaking of family…” Seraphina drew in a long breath and rolled her shoulders back, and Lucius watched her closely, wondering whether something had happened at the funeral that he’d missed and that she’d been fretting over while he’d been preoccupied with everything else that had been happening.  “Lucius, there’s something you need to know.”

            He wasn’t certain whether he could take another emotional blow without losing what was left of his sanity.  He clung to Narcissa’s hand.

            “I’m pregnant.”

            Lucius stared at his mother, certain he must’ve heard her incorrectly.  His throat had gone dry.

            “What?” he managed.

            “I’m pregnant,” Seraphina repeated.  “You’re going to have a brother or a sister.”

            He studied her, and he recognized the signs of one who was trying not to shatter.  Moisture gleamed in her eyes, and though she smiled, the expression was so fragile that a gust of wind in the wrong direction might take it from her lips.  He didn’t have to ask whether his father had known about this—if he had, it would’ve been mentioned long before now, and Seraphina wouldn’t have needed to work so hard to keep herself together. 

            Lucius traced Narcissa’s hand gently with his thumb and released it.  He stood, made his way over to his mother, and embraced her.

            “Congratulations, Mother,” he said.  “You’re going to do a splendid job with him or her, and we’ll be here to help you.”

            Seraphina hugged him tightly, and he felt her let out a long breath.  “Thank you, my love.  I’m very glad to hear that.”

            Lucius kissed her cheek and returned to his seat.  He shifted several pieces of bacon onto his plate and as many eggs as he believed he could handle—he hadn’t been eating enough over the course of this week, he knew, and he found his resolve to keep up his strength renewed.  He had a family to keep together, and he would not fail. 

            He shifted some of the food onto Narcissa’s plate and started in on the eggs filling his own. 

            _A sibling.  What I wouldn’t have traded for this years ago._ He told himself not to focus on that and to keep his thoughts instead on how having another person around the house would be a welcome distraction, particularly if he was to finish his schooling before Narcissa.

            _Don’t think about it,_ Lucius ordered himself.  _Regardless of whatever nonsense we still have to put up with at Hogwarts, she will be my wife, and nothing will change that or take away how perfect it’s going to be._ He’d already become accustomed to the wonderful feeling of waking up to the sight of her face, and he couldn’t imagine anything better than spending every day beside her.  He reached out on instinct to give her hand a squeeze and continued eating. 

            “That’s wonderful, Aunt Sera,” said Avalon.  She squeezed Seraphina’s arm, and Lucius froze at the sight of the image imprinted on the side of his cousin’s wrist.

            “Avalon.  When did you get that?” He fought hard to keep his voice even and not give anything away, but his heart had begun to pound.

            “This?” Avalon fidgeted with her sleeve and pulled it downward, though still not enough to conceal the silver snake etched into her skin.  “Yesterday,” she said quietly. 

            _This is not happening.  I refuse to accept it._

            “What’s the matter, Lucius?” asked Seraphina.  Lucius felt her gaze pressing in on him, but he stared down at his food and ate more quickly, now—he didn’t want to chance saying anything he’d regret, especially at the risk of ruining such a happy moment. 

            “Nothing.  Congratulations to you, as well,” he added to his cousin. 

            The conversation was much less lively throughout the remainder of the meal, and when everyone had finished, Lucius found himself pulled abruptly back upstairs by Narcissa, who held to his hand so tightly that he knew she was panicking.  He closed the door behind them when they reached his chambers, and he met her eyes. 

            “I don’t think she knows it’s him,” Narcissa said quietly.   

            Lucius sighed and nodded.  “I don’t know what to do, Cissy.  I have absolutely no idea.  If Augustus is her soulmate, fine, but you and I both know he has feelings for you.  I don’t want Avalon to get hurt because Augustus hasn’t figured out what he’s thinking.”

            Narcissa closed her eyes.  “I know.  I don’t, either.  I don’t want any more trouble for our family.”

            A wave of warmth passed over Lucius at her choice of words, and he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to press a kiss to her forehead.  He was silent for several moments as he considered, and then he let out a breath. 

            “I’m going to write him,” he said quietly.  “If she’s gotten her mark, so has he, and it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.  If we’re going to… _disagree,_ I’d prefer to do it before our wedding and clear the air.  Besides, I need to make sure he’s all right after Rowle and Carrow.”

            Lucius felt the warmth of Narcissa’s breath and the brush of her lips against his skin as she kissed his neck. 

            “If you want me to go with you, I can.”

            “I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.  I’ll see if Walden wants to come—he needs to get something off his chest, anyway.  What do you reckon it is?”

            “I don’t know, but I’m excited to find out.” Narcissa leaned up to meet his lips tenderly, and Lucius pulled her closer as he shut his eyes. 


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While considering plans for the ball and wedding, Narcissa realizes she needs an item she left at her parents' home.
> 
> WARNING for parental violence.

“…And if you’ve any idea what color your dress will be, we can work the decorations around that.  We wouldn’t want the ballroom to clash with you, considering you and Lucius will be the focal point.”

            Narcissa listened intently, though Seraphina’s words were dissolving into a blur the longer she continued to speak.  Narcissa had helped to coordinate parties before, but she’d never been given the final decision in any of the plans, and she had no idea how to handle so many choices.  She sat beside Seraphina in the dining room, where the table had been covered in swatches of fabric in every texture and pattern she could imagine. 

            “I haven’t really thought about my dress,” Narcissa admitted.  “I can always wear something in a neutral tone so that we don’t have to worry about it clashing.”

            “If that’s what you want, then yes,” said Seraphina, “but please choose whatever is going to make you happy.  In fact, I have a seamstress who would do a splendid job designing something for you.”

            “Sera, you don’t have to—”

            “Narcissa.” Seraphina laid the strip of golden tulle she’d been holding on the table and took Narcissa’s hands in her own.  “This ball is to celebrate _your_ engagement.  I’m going to do everything I can to ensure that it’s something you’ll never forget.”

            Narcissa nodded.  She knew Seraphina was right, and though she was undeniably nervous about making the right choices when it came to planning, she was also incredibly excited by the prospect of being in charge of such a large event.  The thought of the ball outshining anything her mother had ever organized sent a jolt of savage pride through her, and she sat up a bit straighter in her chair. 

            “Thank you,” she said.  “I’ll start trying to think of something.”

She took a sip from her tea and watched Seraphina for a moment in silence.  The elder woman was working diligently to catalogue the fabrics and take notes on the pros and cons of each in respect to tablecloths and drapery.  When she released Narcissa’s hands, she returned one of her own to her quill and the other to her stomach.   

            “Could I help you decorate the baby’s room?” Narcissa asked, looking to Seraphina’s face with a smile. 

            “Of course.” Seraphina smiled back at her and nodded.  “I’d love to work on that with you.” She glanced down at her stomach, and after a moment’s silence, her face fell just slightly.  “Narcissa, I… hope you’re taking precautions.”

            Narcissa froze, her eyes widening as her mouth went dry.  She attempted to speak, but words failed her entirely.  She’d thought she and Lucius had been careful enough to keep his mother from suspecting how far their intimacy had progressed.  Her stomach twisted, and she found herself wishing he was here instead of off meeting with Augustus.  Certainly Lucius would’ve known something to say.

            “I’m not judging you, dear—I’d have absolutely no room to,” Seraphina continued.  “I’ve just been thinking about how many things I need to relearn, as it’s been so long since I’ve gone through this, and I don’t want you to have to deal with all of it on top of everything else you’re facing, particularly with another year at school ahead of you.”

            Narcissa nodded slowly.  “I give you my word that we will take the utmost precaution.”

            “Thank you.” Seraphina reached out and squeezed her hand once again.

            “How… how did you…?”

            “Hm? Oh, I went to ask your opinion on breakfast shortly after you arrived, and when you weren’t in your room early that morning, I suspected.  Honestly, dear, considering that you’re both marked and engaged, it would be pointless of me to protest, and I see the way you and Lucius look at one another.  I know there’s nothing to fear when it comes to the two of you staying together, and so it truly doesn’t bother me.”

            Narcissa let out a quiet sigh.  “I appreciate that.”

            After another few piles of fabric had been examined, Narcissa returned to her borrowed room, working hard to keep her thoughts on deciding on something to wear and not on the embarrassment that still pulsed through her with each heartbeat.  She knew Lucius would be mortified to hear what his mother had deduced, and she was uncertain as to whether bringing it up to him when he returned was wise. 

            While she still couldn’t bring herself to a decision about a dress, she knew one item she needed to have on the day of the ball, or at the very least on the day of the wedding.  Her hand moved unconsciously to her throat as she thought of the silver locket her mother’s grandmother had given her on her tenth birthday shortly before passing away.  Grandmother Rhea had been vastly more maternal than Druella, and while she’d been fond of all of her grandchildren, Narcissa had spent every available opportunity clinging to her skirts to hear stories about love and soulmates and adulthood.  No matter what the rest of her family thought of her, she knew her grandmother would’ve been proud to hear that she’d followed her heart and her soul. 

            Narcissa rummaged through the bags of belongings filling the room she’d largely ignored in favor of her fiancé’s, and when her search turned up nothing, she recalled exactly where she’d left the locket: within her dresser drawer at home. 

            _I can’t exactly owl Mother and Father and ask them to send it over, and I’m not going to put Lucius through seeing them if it isn’t absolutely necessary.  He has enough on his mind._ She glanced at the clock resting on the mantel and considered her options.  It was still early enough in the afternoon that her parents could very probably be out attending to business of one type or another, and if she left now, she could certainly return before Lucius or Seraphina had reason to worry. 

            _But if they are home…_

            Narcissa shook her head and pushed the thoughts aside.  She was legally an adult, now, as recognized by the Minister herself.  She would not allow her fear of her parents to keep her from taking this step toward gaining control of her life. 

            She retrieved her traveling cloak and closed the door to her chambers.  If everything went as planned, she would be gone for only a few minutes.  _There’s no sense in bothering Sera with this.  She’d tell me not to go, and—while she’d probably be right—I need to do this.  I need to prove to myself that I can._

Narcissa pulled on her cloak and stowed her wand within its pocket, and then she made her way over to the fireplace.  Before she could dissuade herself, she Flooed home. 

            The drawing room was silent on her arrival, and she remained beside the fireplace for several tortuously long moments before allowing herself to move forward into the room.  She drifted into the corridor and over the immaculately buffed floors to the staircase.

            _Not a sound so far other than that blasted clock of father’s.  I suppose they’re out._

Beginning to breathe a bit more easily, she started upward and thanked Merlin for her good fortune. 

            The fourth stair creaked loudly beneath her foot.

            _Oh hell._

Her hand tensed on the railing, and she stood perfectly still.  The grandfather clock Cygnus had commissioned from a builder in France ticked beside the foot of the steps, its sound the only one breaking through the heavy air. 

            Narcissa rolled her shoulders backward and lifted her chin, and she started up the stairs once again.  She moved as lightly as she could manage, and when she reached the top of the steps, she strode quickly through the corridors to her door, which had been left cracked.  She gave it a gentle push and stepped into the room. 

            Her bed was made with the same precision with which everything was maintained within the house.  The books she’d left out in neat stacks upon her dresser had been returned to their shelf, and the violet curtains were drawn. 

            “Like the room’s sleeping,” Narcissa muttered.  “Like it doesn’t belong to anyone.”

            She moved to the dresser, pulled open the drawer on the right-hand side, and slipped in her hand to rummage through the familiar contents.  She felt the soft, smooth fur of the stuffed cat Grandmother Rhea had given her for her third birthday and the slick metal of the bracelet Bellatrix had broken the clasp on by pulling too hard when she’d been trying to get a better look.  She felt the edge of a Chocolate Frog card Sirius had insisted on giving her when he’d still cared about trying to impress her. 

            _Focus._

There, in the back corner.  Her fingers closed around the locket, and she pulled it free from the drawer and held it up by its delicate chain.  Though the room was dim, lit only by what reached it from the corridor, Narcissa could just make out the engraved initials and the diamonds set into the metal to mimic stars.  She slipped the necklace into her pocket and turned toward the door.

            The lamps throughout the room ignited in a rush of light, and Narcissa froze. 

            Her father stood on the threshold. 

            “She graces us with her presence at last.”

            “Father.” Narcissa bowed her head.  The movement came to her on reflex, and she was instantly furious with herself for it. 

            “I doubt you’re here to stay, considering you didn’t bother to owl or to bring anything with you.”

            “I’m on my way out,” said Narcissa, fighting to keep her voice even as she took a step toward the door. 

            “Your mother will be glad to know you stopped by.  I’ll be sure to give her regards, when she returns.”

            Narcissa paused and studied her father’s face.  His mouth was set in a tight line, and there was a hardness in his gaze that suggested he knew something was out of place with his wife.  For the first time, Narcissa felt pity beginning to creep through her for the man who had made her frightened to have thoughts of her own.  She couldn’t imagine how it felt to suspect the person who was supposed to love him of both feeling otherwise and acting upon it.  She had Lucius—she never had to fear that the person she trusted most would betray her.  Had her parents ever truly trusted one another? The thought of spending one’s entire life without that connection with the person who was supposed to be one’s partner was horrifying to her. 

            “How have you been?” she asked Cygnus quietly.

            He let out a flat laugh.  “As well as I can be, with my daughters out doing as they please.  At least Bellatrix has found a cause to dedicate herself to.  But what about you?” He stepped forward, his dark eyes surveying her face.  “You managed to avoid coming home after what was supposed to be a dinner visit, and you persuaded Abraxas bloody Malfoy to speak for you and insist that you stay for the sake of ‘planning a _party._ ’You’re more effective at manipulating things to your advantage than I realized, Narcissa.”

            “It wasn’t like that.” She shook her head firmly.  “I didn’t ask for—”

            “Of course you didn’t.  You didn’t have to.  You’ve got that boy wrapped around your finger, and I don’t want to begin to imagine what you’ve done for him in return.  Don’t you think people are talking about you staying there, you foolish child? Don’t you know what they’re saying? I swear to the gods, if you think I’m going to allow a bastard child to—”

            “That’s ridiculous.” Heat burned fiercely in Narcissa’s cheeks, and she scowled as she shook her head.  “I don’t have to hear this.”

            She brushed past him and started for the door, and a moment later, she felt his iron grip enclose her wrist.  Narcissa turned her head and stared into the face of her father, ordering her body not to betray her by trembling.  Cygnus’s expression was livid as he stared down at her, the stench of a type of alcohol she didn’t care to identify on his breath.  Every line in his face was pulled taut by the severity of his frown. 

            “You will not walk away from me, Narcissa Elladora Black.”

            “I will.  You have no power over me, and I am counting the days until I no longer bear your name.”

            He gave her shoulder a hard shove into the wooden paneling.  Narcissa sucked in a sharp breath, unprepared for the pain that surged over her shoulder blade and outward as the pressure increased with each second.

            “How dare you speak to me that way!” Keeping one hand on her shoulder, Cygnus used the other to reach for his wand. 

            Narcissa’s pulse roared in her ears as she quickly groped for her own wand within the pocket of her cloak, and as she watched her father’s lips begin to form the Unforgivable Curse he called upon in the moments in which he desperately sought to keep his power, she reacted on reflex. 

            She flicked her wrist and cast “ _Petrificus Totalus,_ ” and the instant her father froze and she wrenched her way from his grasp, she closed her eyes tightly and focused every bit of energy she possessed on being away from here, on returning to Malfoy Manor. 

            For the first time, she Disapparated, and as pain shot through her like wildfire, she knew she hadn’t done it properly. 

 


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius meets with Augustus and Walden and returns home to find Narcissa injured.

“So this belongs to your cousin.”

            Lucius nodded slowly, eyeing the silver cat etched into Augustus’s wrist before looking back to his face.  Augustus blinked and shook his head in what looked like disbelief. 

            “I guess I expected I’d know whoever it was better before the mark showed up,” he said.  “We’ve spoken a bit, but I… didn’t see this coming.”

            Lucius exchanged glances with Walden, who sat beside him in their booth at The Three Broomsticks. 

            “You must’ve done something,” said Walden.  “They appear when you’ve made a connection.”

            “We just… _talked,_ when we were all here.  She told me what she was going through with her divorce, and—”

            “That’s it, then.” Walden nodded smugly.  “She trusted you.”

            “All I’m saying is if you hurt her, I will hurt you.” Lucius’s tone was pleasant and conversational even with the threat in his words.  He wasn’t attempting to scare Augustus, not really.  He was simply stating fact.

            “Excellent vote of confidence,” said Augustus with a roll of his eyes. 

            “I haven’t forgotten the way you’ve been acting around Narcissa.”

            Augustus met Lucius’s gaze, and for a moment, the table was silent. 

            “I can’t help it if I had feelings for her before I knew about your marks,” said Augustus at last. 

            “No,” Lucius admitted.  “But you can accept that they aren’t to be acted upon, especially if you are bound to my cousin.”

            “I don’t intend anything of the sort.”

            Lucius nodded, doing his best to believe what Augustus was telling him and not allow his irrational fear of losing Narcissa to dictate his response.  He trusted her completely, and he was trying to trust Augustus, though when it came to the subject of the most important person in his life, it was hard to trust anyone.

            “I am going to get to know Avalon,” Augustus continued.  “I want to do this right.”

            “Well, now that we’ve got that bloody mess out of the way,” said Walden, elbowing Lucius in the arm, “I need to tell you lot something.  I proposed to Lenny.  She said yes.”

            “ _What?_ ” asked Augustus, who stared at him open-mouthed. 

            Lucius clapped Walden on the shoulder, smirking.  “I knew it would happen sooner or later.  I’m actually surprised you didn’t beat me to it.”

            “I’d planned on it,” Walden grumbled.  “But I ended up waiting because you and Cissy decided to charge headfirst into engagement and I didn’t want it to look like I was just trying to keep up.”

            Lucius hadn’t considered this.  His own proposal hadn’t been made with a thought of anyone other than Narcissa.  He felt a small surge of guilt that he only managed to fight down with the knowledge that things had worked out for Walden eventually. 

            Augustus groaned.  “You two are going to be planning weddings, and I only just had a decent conversation with my soulmate yesterday.  Ridiculous.”

            Lucius kicked his shin beneath the table.  “Be glad you’ve found her.”

* * *

When Lucius returned home, Narcissa was neither in her bedroom nor in the drawing room.  As he made his way through the halls in search of her, his focus was drawn to the red flecks trailing along the floor. 

            _That can’t be…_

            As the droplets grew more frequent on the polished wood, it became impossible for Lucius to deny what he saw. 

He broke into a run. 

            He followed the trail as quickly as his legs would carry him, and when it led him to the door of his room, he threw it open and rushed inside to find her doubled over on the bed clutching a blood-soaked cloth to her stomach.

            _“Cissy!”_

            Lucius hurtled toward her and leaned close to examine her injury, his heart pounding and the urge to be ill rising rapidly.  How in the world had this happened? Who had dared to harm her, his rose, his fiancée, the woman who never sought to cause pain to anyone and had borne far too much of it for someone so young? Whoever was to blame, Lucius made an immediate mental vow to ensure they suffered dearly. 

            “Cissy, please, let me see.  Let me see what happened.”

            He laid his hands gently on hers and pulled the cloth back, and fury shot through him like a bolt of lightning. 

            Her pale pink dress was ripped at the abdomen, revealing several deep, jagged tears in her skin along her stomach.  She was trembling from head to toe and clutching the cloth so tightly the color had drained from her hands. 

            “Who did this?” Lucius’s voice left his lips with a much sharper edge than he’d intended, and he gave himself a mental kick, hoping she knew his anger was in no way directed at her.  “Lie down,” he said more softly.  He helped her to lean back against the pillows, and when she let out a pained groan, he clenched his jaw as he leaned over her, his protective instincts switching his mind into overdrive.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, we’ll fix this…”

            “I’m sorry,” Narcissa breathed.  Her voice was constricted, as though pushing it from her throat was fighting against agony. 

            “What? Don’t be ridic—”

            “I tried to Apparate and it was stupid and I—it’s my fault.”

            Lucius frowned and pressed his lips to her forehead.  He tried to ignore how clammy her skin felt, but the sickened feeling bubbling within him continued to spread. 

            “Why did you try to Apparate? Cissy, where were you? What happened?”

            “I… it doesn’t matter.”

            “Of course it matters.” Lucius pulled back slightly to look into her eyes as he took the cloth from her hands and held it to her stomach as gently as he could.  “Tell me what happened.  Please.”

            She watched him for a moment, her lips quivering, and then she closed her eyes.  “I went home.”

            Lucius’s grip on the cloth tensed.  “Why?”

            “I wanted to get the necklace my grandmother gave me before she died so that I could wear it to the ball.  I know it was unbelievably foolish, but I thought I’d be gone before anyone noticed I was there.”

            Lucius was silent.  He knew the rest of the story without her having to explain it, or at least he knew the general idea.  Pure, unbridled hatred pulsed through his veins with each beat of his heart, and he knew in that moment he would have no trouble fulfilling his final task for the Dark Lord. 

            “Your father found you,” he muttered.

            Narcissa nodded. 

            “What did he do to you?”

            “He had me pinned against the wall, and he was going to use the Cruciatus Curse, and I panicked.  I used _Petrificus Totalus_ on him and tried to Apparate back here.  The Ministry’s going to have my head, and I don’t want to get you in trouble with them, and I’m so—”

            Lucius silenced her with a kiss and shook his head.  “Don’t worry about a single thing.  I will handle anyone who questions you using magic outside school, and I will handle your father.”

            Narcissa’s eyes widened, and she reached out to take his free hand between both of their own.  “Lucius, you don’t need to—”

            “Narcissa.” He looked down at their joined hands and the blood covering her skin, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie and tell her that he didn’t plan to cause Cygnus an unimaginable amount of pain for this.  “Please trust that I will take care of you and don’t worry about anything else.  What you need to focus on right now is feeling better.  I’ll get Mum, and we’ll fix this.”

            He glanced to the door and considered going to find his mother, but the thought lasted only an instant.  He couldn’t leave Narcissa’s side.  He summoned Dobby and sent him to fetch Seraphina, and when she entered the room, her gasp led Narcissa, who had been attempting to rest, to jump.

            “It’s all right,” Lucius muttered, brushing a lock of hair back from his fiancée’s face.

            “What in Merlin’s name happened?” Seraphina demanded.  She sat at the edge of the bed and pulled the cloth from her son’s hands to use it to dab at the edges of the wound before pulling it away completely.  She drew her wand and began reciting a series of incantations without lifting her gaze from Narcissa’s wounds. 

            Words eluded Lucius as he stared at the blood covering the woman he loved.  He’d experienced his share of anger, and he’d harmed people both because he’d had to and because he’d wanted to, but he’d never wanted to inflict pain on someone as badly as he wanted to harm Cygnus Black.

            “Her father happened,” he said flatly. 

            Seraphina’s lips twisted downward as she worked, and Lucius knew she was awaiting an explanation.  He sat and lifted Narcissa just slightly to rest her head in his lap and stroke her hair as his mother healed her.

            “There was something important to her that she needed to retrieve,” he said, “and she didn’t expect to run into him.  He hurt her, and she tried to get away and got splinched.”

            “That’s dreadful.” Seraphina shook her head, her grey eyes narrowing. 

Lucius suspected that whatever his mother was thinking as she pulled a small vial from her pocket and began applying Dittany to the wounds was as unkind as his own thoughts, and pride surged through him at the idea that she was as so protective of Narcissa.  If Cygnus and Druella were going to be completely useless to their daughter, at least Seraphina was there for her.  Lucius wished his fiancée had been given more time with his father and had been able to experience life with two caring parents.  He couldn’t provide that for her, but he could give her the love of a husband, and with each day that passed, he found himself more prepared to make her his.

            “Make her comfortable, love,” said Seraphina when she finally lowered her wand.  “And apply this again soon.”

            Lucius looked to Narcissa’s stomach to find that the wounds had sealed and her skin had reformed to cover them.  He let out a relieved sigh and took the vial of Dittany from his mother, setting it on his night table before attempting to give her a smile.

            “Thank you, Mother.  We’d be lost without you.”

            “Sera, thank you,” said Narcissa softly.  She reached out and squeezed Seraphina’s hand.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

            “Don’t apologize, Cissy.” Seraphina shook her head.  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to go into your own home, and I’m sorry that you couldn’t do so safely.  Please, if you ever feel the need to go back to that house, bring one or both of us with you.”

            “I will.”

            Lucius refrained from stating how determined he was that Narcissa would not set food in that house again at all.  He didn’t want to upset her by belaboring the subject, and he wanted to focus on making sure she was comfortable and happy and not worry her by mentioning what he wanted to do to the one responsible for her pain. 

            After a few assurances that Narcissa was feeling better, Seraphina departed.  Lucius watched his fiancée where she lay with her head in his lap, her bloodied fingers still intertwined with his. 

            “You should rest,” he told her softly.  “You’ve been through too much.”

            “If I do, will you stay with me?”

            “Of course.  I need to go and get a few things very quickly, but then I will be right back, and I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

            Narcissa nodded, and Lucius shifted her carefully back onto the pillows before making his way to the bathroom adjoined to his bedroom.  He removed his shoes and stripped out of his shirt—it was caked in her blood, and the sight was sickening; she shouldn’t bleed, she shouldn’t be hurt—and washed his hands before returning with a clean, damp rag.  He retrieved a clean shirt from the closet and made his way back to the bed, where he helped her out of her torn clothing and washed every last trace of blood from her skin.  When he’d finished, he helped her into his clean shirt and returned the rag to the bathroom, and then he climbed into bed beside her. 

            “Everything is going to be all right,” he said as he pulled her as close to him as he could and drew the blankets up over them. 

            She rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arm around him, and he tried not to think about how stiff her movements seemed or the little pained hisses that she couldn’t hold back completely.

            “Thank you,” Narcissa said as she closed her eyes.  “I’m supposed to be the one healing you.  I’m sorry.”

            “Narcissa, I am going to spend my life doing everything I can to keep you safe.” Lucius trailed his fingers through her hair as he spoke, hoping to calm her and help her ease into sleep.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening.”

            “I didn’t give you the chance.  I should’ve told you.”

            “I wish I’d known so that I could have done something to help you sooner, but I don’t fault you for what you were trying to do.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.  “Did you get the necklace?”

            “I did.  It’s in the pocket of my cloak on the chaise.”

            “Wonderful.” Lucius nodded and continued to stroke her hair.  “Please try to rest, my rose.  I’ll be right here.”

            Even when her breathing had evened out enough to suggest that she’d fallen asleep, he kept his eyes open.  He didn’t want to take even the slightest chance on missing it if she needed him.  He held her close and wondered whether she would be upset with him if she knew he was debating the merits of killing her father. 


	47. Chapter Forty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa realizes what Lucius is planning.

Lucius’s touch was gentle as he applied the Dittany, and Narcissa kept her eyes fixed on his face.  Concern softened his expression, but there was still an edge to it that she couldn’t deny.  She imagined he was thinking about the person responsible for her situation, and though she knew she’d wanted to absolutely destroy Thorfinn and Alecto for what they’d done to him, she wished he would let the matter drop.  She was grateful to be safe and healed and grateful for the love and kindness shown to her by Lucius and Seraphina, and if she could focus on that and not worry about her family for the remainder of the holidays, that would certainly be ideal.

            “How did the meeting with Augustus go?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to Lucius’s face from his hands as they spread the remedy over her stomach. 

            “It was fine.  He said he’s going to get to know Av, and he admitted having feelings for you, though he swore he wouldn’t act on them and wouldn’t hurt her.” Lucius sighed and set the Dittany aside on the end table before casting _Scourgify_ on his hands and pulling the shirt Narcissa had borrowed from him back down to cover her completely.  Narcissa considered for a moment how lucky she was that Lucius Malfoy was willing to dirty his hands with plant matter for her, and then she grabbed his arm and pulled him down beside her as she sat up and leaned against his shoulder. 

            “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, taking his hand and linking her fingers with his.  She watched their joined hands as Lucius spoke.   

            “He also said he chased after Rowle and Carrow, after they left us on the ground, and he saw something I didn’t notice while I was trying to hex them into next April.”

            “What was it?”

            “They’re marked.”

            Narcissa looked up to his face so quickly her head spun.  “What?”

            “Marked.  _Together._   Each of them has a silver shape on their neck that wasn’t there when we all left school.” Lucius smirked and slid his fingers through Narcissa’s curls.  “What a fitting pair.”

            “Merlin, she helped him try to get to me in every way he could.  I can’t imagine she’s happy about being linked to him.”

            “Perhaps that was why she went along with it,” said Lucius, lying back and pulling Narcissa gently along with him.  He turned onto his side and rested his hand on her waist.  “If she already had feelings for him, she might’ve thought she could earn his favor by helping him get back at you for rejecting him.  And me for… well, I might’ve threatened his life a few times.”

            Narcissa stared at the dark green canopy as she considered.  Yes, it would make sense, in some dark, twisted manner, if Alecto had acted in the way she had to earn Thorfinn’s affections.  Narcissa felt a great swell of pity for the woman who’d caused her so much pain.  If Alecto was so determined to win the heart of someone who might not have one at all, she was certainly in for disappointment.  And if they’d been bound by their marks… she would think she’d won, and even if Thorfinn never grew to love her, she would still hold out hope.  _What a terrible way to live,_ Narcissa thought. 

            “Cissy?”

            “Hm? I’m sorry, love, I was just thinking about how dreadful that whole situation sounds.” Narcissa shifted closer and kissed his jaw.

            “No, I was… wondering about something else.”

            “What is it?” She trailed her fingertips lightly down his chest, looking up at his face.  His brows were drawn, worry etched into the set of his lips.  “Lucius, what’s wrong?”

            “When I have to complete my final task for the Dark Lord—when I have to kill—how can you still want to be with me? What could I possibly have done to make you overlook something like that?”

            Narcissa lifted her head in shock.  “What?” she breathed.  “We’ve talked about this, Luc.  I understand that you’re going to have to do things for him that are—”

            “Wrong.”

            “—difficult.”

            She sighed, resting her hand on his cheek and leaning her forehead against his.  In truth, the idea of the man she loved ending a life terrified her.  Absolutely, completely.  Still, she knew that no matter what he did in the Dark Lord’s service, there was nothing that could stop her from loving him.  She was surprised and more than a little disconcerted with herself for this fact, but it was true. 

            “You are my soul,” she said, lifting the hand still intertwined with his.  “Nothing you do will change the fact that I would go to the end of the world and back for you.”

            He pulled her to him so tightly she thought for an instant she might break.

            “And I for you,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her hair. 

* * *

_Andi-_

_I’m sorry it’s taken so long to write.  I know things were ridiculously awkward when we ran into one another at the Ministry, and for that, I am very sorry.  I know Abraxas wasn’t kind to you and Ted, and I should have intervened.  I’m still not the best at conflict, and I know that’s not an excuse.  Since Abraxas passed, I’ve been focusing most of my energy on making sure that Lucius is all right.  He’s been in a lot of pain, and I wish I knew how to take it away.  I also wish I knew what it was like to have that kind of bond with a parent._

_I don’t know if anyone at the Ministry has told you, but I’ve been emancipated.  Mother and Father shouldn’t be able to control me anymore, and as such, I hope you know that I want you to be at my wedding.  As soon as we’ve set a date, I’ll be sure to pass it on to you.  In the meantime, we’re hosting a ball at the Manor to celebrate our engagement (as well as Lucius’s birthday, because it’s coming up soon.) If you could be there, it would mean the world to—_

* * *

“What’re you working on?”

            Narcissa nearly knocked over the inkwell at the sound of Bellatrix’s voice from the doorway.  She’d been writing at the dresser in Lucius’s room while he was off on a mission he couldn’t divulge in detail, and her cheeks burned violently as she realized her sister shouldn’t be seeing her here.

            “Ball invitations.  Bella, what’s going on? What brings you here?” Narcissa pulled open the top drawer and slid the parchment inside without giving it another glance, praying her sister didn’t press her for more information about it.  She wondered briefly whether she should edit her letter to remove Andromeda’s invitation to attend the ball.  Narcissa wanted terribly to see Andromeda again, but she couldn’t imagine how Bellatrix would react if they were under the same roof and left to their own devices. 

            “I just wanted to visit you.” Bellatrix shrugged, sauntering into the room and leaning against the bedpost as she looked from the disarrayed covers to Narcissa and back.  She raised a brow and let out a short sigh.  “I suppose I have to murder him now, don’t I?”

            “ _Bella!_ It’s not—we haven’t—”

            “Don’t bother, Cissy.  You’re a terrible liar.” The corner of Bellatrix’s mouth twitched upward, and she moved over to rest her hands on the back of the chair occupied by Narcissa, who was still trying unsuccessfully to find words.  “But how have you been? I know you and Abraxas were getting close.  He always talked about you at meetings.”

            Narcissa’s heart sank.  She hadn’t realized he’d thought so highly of her, and she wished she’d taken the opportunity to tell him just how greatly she appreciated everything he’d done for her. 

            “It’s been difficult,” she admitted.  “But we’re managing.”

            “Seraphina told me you’ve been quite a lot of help,” said Bellatrix. 

            “I’ve tried.  I want to repay them for being so good to me.”

            Bellatrix nodded and glanced around the room, her focus lingering on the bed.  “I feel like it’s my duty to at least threaten him,” she muttered. 

            “Bella, please.” Narcissa sighed.

            “Where is he, anyway?” Bellatrix arched a dark brow.  “I haven’t met my insult quota yet today.”

            Narcissa rolled her eyes.  “He had a task for the Dark Lord.”

            Bellatrix let out a short laugh.  “Today? No he didn’t.  No one did.  The Dark Lord is occupied, today.”

            Narcissa felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her.  “Then where is…?” She trailed off as her eyes widened and she gripped the dresser for support.  She recalled the conversation she and Lucius had had that morning regarding his obligation to kill, and as the sore muscles near her healing scars throbbed, she realized she knew exactly where he had gone.   

             


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius faces Cygnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I couldn’t get this up yesterday! I’m anxious about this chapter… I hope it feels like justice has been served. x

Black Manor was quiet when Lucius arrived. 

            He didn’t know what he’d expected.  For a house so tainted with pain to be as loud as its inhabitants’ actions? Lucius shook his head and moved through the corridors as silently as he could, scanning each room as he passed.  When he saw a light on a few doors down, his stomach lurched uncomfortably. 

            _You’ve come this far,_ he thought.  _Failure is not an option._

            He pursued the light, and when he turned his head to find it coming from the lounge.  He saw lavishly upholstered chaises, a plush maroon carpet, and a bar where an open, half-empty bottle of whiskey sat, and he knew he was in the right place. 

            _Think of her._

He pulled Narcissa’s smile to the front of his mind and squared his shoulders.  Anyone who’d harmed her deserved whatever Lucius decided to give him. 

As Lucius stepped into the lounge, his gaze landed on Cygnus.  The man sat in an armchair, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a look of cool calculation in his eyes. 

            “Come in,” he said, gesturing Lucius forward with his free hand. 

            Slowly, his feet heavier than lead, Lucius made his way into the room.  He closed the door behind him, and when it clicked shut, the sound reverberated off the wood paneling. 

            _Breathe.  Focus._

            “I assumed you’d come,” Cygnus muttered. 

            Lucius turned to face him slowly, and he found that Narcissa’s father was staring down into his glass as he swirled its contents.  His lips were pressed into a tight line. 

            “I don’t know what you expect to gain,” Cygnus continued, “but I knew you’d come all the same.”

            Lucius’s jaw clenched.  “What I expect to _gain_ is the safety of my fiancée.” He stepped forward, his footsteps nearly drowned out by the roaring of his heart in his ears. 

            “Narcissa will never learn,” Cygnus muttered, throwing back the remainder of the liquid in his glass and setting it on the dark wooden table beside him.  “She’s young, but she’s stubborn.  She doesn’t grasp that she needs to respect—”

            “ _Respect?_ ” Lucius repeated, his voice rising.  “Why should she respect you when you don’t respect her?”

            Cygnus’s glare could’ve cut through lead as he pushed himself to his feet and took a step toward Lucius.  “I am her father.  I am the head of this household and of the House of Black.”

            “Orion might beg to differ.”

            The elder man’s hand twitched toward his pocket. 

            Lucius ignored the motion and continued.  “You don’t know, do you?” He raised a brow and let out a chuckle.  “No, I can’t imagine she would’ve wanted to tell you, not with how you would’ve received it.”

            “Spit it out, boy,” Cygnus growled.

            Lucius let the silence hang between them for several moments, savoring the advantages he held.  Right now, he possessed quite a bit more information.  In addition to the truth about what little sway Cygnus now held over Narcissa, Lucius was privy to Druella’s affair and Andromeda’s pregnancy.  He wanted to rub each bit of information in the face of the man who had made his fiancée’s life so utterly miserable for so long.  He wanted to watch Cygnus squirm. 

            “Narcissa has no obligation to listen to a word that comes out of your pathetic mouth ever again.  She’s been emancipated.  The papers were signed by the Minister herself.  You can’t touch her.”

            Cygnus’s eye twitched.  Color began to creep over his cheeks, and his fists clenched and unclenched rapidly, giving the impression that he was trying hard not to use them. 

            “You never should’ve raised a hand to her anyway.” Lucius’s voice dropped dangerously low, and he stepped closer to Cygnus, finding his resolve strengthened by the other man’s anger.  Only a few paces remained between them.  “Your job was to protect her.  I will succeed where you’ve failed.”

            “Will you?” Cygnus muttered, raising a brow in challenge.  “How do you figure?” His gaze slid to Lucius’s left arm.  “You think you’ll be able to protect my daughter while you’re out there fighting for _him_? I doubt you’ll be able to protect yourself.”

            Lucius froze.  “How do you—?”

            “I may not have taken the Mark, but I’m close with many who have, and I know you’re taking your father’s place.  You’re more of a danger to Narcissa than I am.”

            Unable to restrain himself any longer, Lucius pulled his wand from the pocket of his cloak and directed it at the other man’s chest. 

            “I would never hurt her,” he snarled.  “The fact that you have makes you unworthy of remaining in her life.”

            Cygnus let out a flat laugh, the corners of his mouth twisting unpleasantly upward.  “Put it down.  You wouldn’t dare.”

            “Wouldn’t I?” Lucius stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as his wand drew closer to Cygnus’s chest.  “What makes you think I wouldn’t avenge the things you’ve done?”

            “I don’t think you want to bring the Ministry’s wrath down on yourself.” Despite the firmness of his words, Cygnus took a step backward. 

            “I don’t give a damn what the Ministry says or what they do to me.” Lucius imagined Narcissa would be furious with him if he managed to get arrested—he didn’t particularly want to think about what she would say to what he planned to do.  He hated the idea that his actions would hurt her, and he told himself that ensuring her safety was worth bearing her anger, though he was beginning to feel ill.  “I won’t let you hurt her again.”

            Cygnus produced his wand in a flash, and “ _Expelliarmus_ ” left Lucius’s lips on reflex, leading the wand to fly into his free hand. 

            “I can’t imagine everything you’ve done, but the things I’ve heard are enough to make you deserve far worse than this.” Lucius shook his head.  “You should know what your treatment of your family has brought about.  Did you know Andromeda’s expecting? With the Mu—?”

            Cygnus lunged for his wand, and Lucius feinted to the side, but the elder man managed to get a strong grip on his arm and wrestle it free.  Before he could react, he heard Cygnus mutter “ _Diffindo_ ,” and he felt a deep slicing pain shoot through his side. 

            _This is it.  If I hesitate, I lose my chance, and quite possibly my life.  If I lose to him, I’ll have only succeeded in turning him further against her, and the gods only know what he’ll do.  Narcissa, please forgive me._

Lucius raised his wand and focused all his energy on his rage.  On the man who had harmed the woman Lucius loved, had tortured her and made her feel small for far too long. 

            _He won’t hurt you again._

Cygnus opened his mouth, but before he could form another spell, Lucius flicked his wrist.

            “ _Avada Kedavra._ ”

            Emerald light burst through the room, blinding and final. 

            The sound of Cygnus hitting the ground was muffled by the pounding of Lucius’s heart, which beat with the volume and speed of a passing train.  When the light faded, Lucius was left with the motionless form of his fiancée’s father, who lay sprawled on the carpet, his arms and legs bent unnaturally, his wand lying useless a few paces away beneath a footstool. 

            Dizziness swept over Lucius like a hurricane.  He wondered how long his hands had been shaking, how long he’d been unsteady on his feet.  He clutched the back of the armchair for support as his breathing grew so rapid and unsteady that he was certain his lungs would burst. 

            _He’s dead._

_He’s dead._

“Cygnus? What was that?”

            The sound of Druella’s voice pulled the floor out from beneath him, and Lucius was falling where he stood, his head spinning and his stomach plummeting.  He held tighter to the chair as his eyes flicked to the door and processed that her footsteps were drawing nearer.  He had no more time to process what he’d done.  He needed to leave.  _Now._

            With one last glance at the man lying on the floor, Lucius Disapparated just as the doorknob began to turn. 


	49. Chapter Forty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa searches out Lucius, aware of what he's done, and struggles to process her feelings about the death of her father.

Narcissa barely heard Bellatrix calling out to her as she hurtled down the hallway toward the fireplaces the Malfoys had connected to the Floo network.  _Would he have used the drawing room or the study?_ Her heart was pounding so rapidly and so forcefully against her ribs that she felt she might vomit, and she couldn’t stop the trembling of her hands. 

            He was actually going to do it. 

            “ _I will handle your father_ ,” he’d said.

            Why had she doubted even for a moment, that he was absolutely serious?

            She’d known in theory that Lucius would do anything for her, but she hadn’t allowed herself to think through to what that could actually mean, given the injuries that still pained her with every rapid step as the muscles of her stomach pulled and twisted and rebelled against their healing.  She’d been advised to lie still or, at the very most, to keep herself confined to the bedroom until she was well enough to handle the stairs—which moments earlier, she’d taken two at a time—and to call on the elf for anything she might need.  In theory, Narcissa understood that all of this was for the best, given her weakened state, but she couldn’t in good conscience stay put and do nothing while this was happening. 

            She couldn’t accept that Lucius was going to kill her father.

Bellatrix grabbed her arm and spun her around hard, leaving Narcissa momentarily breathless.

            “Cissy, if you don’t tell me what is going on right this moment, I swear I will—”

            “Do your worst,” Narcissa snarled, certain her eyes were flashing dangerously.  “I’m sure I can take it.” She clenched her jaw and dared her sister to contradict her with the sharp set of her lips.  

            Slowly, looking wounded, Bellatrix retracted her arm.  

            Narcissa’s stomach twisted with guilt.  Even now, when larger things were at stake than either of them, the sight of her sister’s pain was sickening. 

            “I promise I will explain as soon as I can,” she muttered. 

            She turned away and resumed her course, and it wasn’t the roar of flames that alerted her to his presence but the figure bent over the desk in Abraxas’s study, his back to her. 

            His breath was unsteady, his shoulders quaking every few seconds, and he was clearly struggling. 

            _Oh gods.  He’s… done it._

            “Lucius,” Narcissa breathed.  She gripped the doorframe hard, afraid she might fall without its support. 

            Tension shot through him, and his hands tightened on the desk. 

            He said nothing.

            Bellatrix’s footsteps grew louder until Narcissa heard them stop directly behind her.

            “The hell’s going on?” Bellatrix demanded.

            Narcissa didn’t face her.  “We need to speak alone, please,” she muttered.  She could barely force the words past the lump rising in her throat, and she glanced around the study for the nearest bin, as she felt the need to be ill resurfacing rapidly. 

            “Cissy…” Bellatrix’s voice was much quieter, this time, and Narcissa turned to see her sister’s drawn brows and concerned eyes. 

            “I’ll tell you soon,” said Narcissa with a small nod.

            After a moment of silence, Bellatrix huffed and strode down the corridor toward the front doors. 

            When Narcissa was certain her sister was gone, she turned her head toward her fiancé once more, her fingers clenching on the doorframe until her knuckles went white. 

            “You… you…” The remainder of the words she wanted to say died in her throat, and she could only watch his back as it trembled.  She recognized the motion immediately.

            Lucius was weeping.

            A stair creaked somewhere in the distance; Narcissa realized she had no idea where Seraphina was, but at the moment, she couldn’t handle the idea of seeing anyone else.

            “Yes.”

            The word left him so quietly she wasn’t certain he’d spoken until he lowered his head, his hands shaking as they gripped the dark wood of the desk. 

            Narcissa stood frozen, watching him.  She was torn between the desire to run to him, to gather him in her arms and comfort him and ease his pain, and the desire to flee.  This was the man she loved, to whom her soul was bound, and she couldn’t possibly fear him.

            Could she?

_“Nothing you do will change the fact that I would go to the end of the world and back for you.”_

She’d spoken the words only that morning, and she’d meant each one.  She still did—she knew in theory that she should be screaming and knocking things off shelves and striking out in anger for Cygnus, but no matter how long she stood considering, how many seconds ticked by in silence, she knew this would change nothing.

            Even though part of her was wounded, furious, it would change nothing.

            “You killed him,” she whispered, pushing off the doorframe and taking a step closer to Lucius.

            “Yes,” he said again, somehow even more softly, this time. 

            Lucius swayed on his feet and reached out for a better grip on the desk, but he missed and started to fall. 

            Narcissa ordered her feet to respond more quickly than her mind, and in an instant, she was at his side, kneeling and keeping him from hitting the floor as she caught him across her lap and did her best to support him with an arm slung around his back.

            “Lucius! What’s—?”

            It was then that she caught sight of the deep gash lining his side, and her breath died in her throat. 

            _Diffindo._ She recognized it instantly. 

            Cygnus had gotten in a severe attack before his death, and Lucius was already paler than Narcissa had seen him since the fight with Thorfinn and Alecto.

            _If one more person raises a wand to him, I swear I will kill them myself._

Tension shot through her at the thought, and she raised her hand to his cheek, determined not to let herself think on the words for too long. 

            “Are you angry with me?”

            His voice was hoarse, his lips taking up a thin line the moment he’d finished speaking.  He closed his eyes, and she knew he was awaiting some sort of grand blow. 

            Narcissa opened her mouth to try to give it, and when her breath left her mouth, it was only air.  She closed her eyes, as well, and choked on a sob. 

            _I should be angry.  I should be angry.  That was my father, and I…_

            Narcissa hadn’t asked herself in years how she truly felt about Cygnus.  Perhaps, she reasoned now, she’d been too frightened to know the answer.  She knew that no matter what he’d done to her, she was cursed— _Cygnus was her father,_ and no matter how many times he’d hurt her, no matter how many times he’d raised his wand to her, she’d always known part of her would still love him, as stupid as that felt. 

* * *

_She was seven.  She’d twisted her ankle and fallen into the mantel—surely they couldn’t fault her for that, could they? But as she glanced up from the shattered fragments of the antique serpent figurine that had belonged to the Black family for far longer than Narcissa had been alive, she recognized the look in her father’s eyes as one of unbridled fury._

_She barely heard his chastising words over the roar of her heart in her ears, but she felt the Cruciatus Curse land with perfect clarity, and she dropped to the floor beside the broken heirloom._

* * *

_Narcissa turned around, trying to ignore the nervous twisting in her stomach as she lifted her shirt slightly, trying to allow Lucius to see the mark—the one that tied them together eternally—without completely throwing out her sense of propriety.  Still, she imagined that if her mother could see her now, Druella would be hissing and spitting and Narcissa would be confined to her room for the next several years._

_“Cissy, you don’t have to—”_

_“It’s okay.  Really.  I do trust you, you know.”_

_She heard a light sigh from behind her followed by shifting, and she realized that he’d waited to turn around until her word.  Her heart was still hammering, and she closed her eyes at the soft touch of his fingers tracing the image of the lion on her back.  A moment passed as his hand lingered, and then she felt the material of her shirt slip from her grasp as he pulled it back down into place.  She opened her eyes as his arms wound around her from behind, and she smiled._

* * *

_She was three, clinging to her father’s leg as he strode briskly through the house._

_“You’re going to fall off, Narcissa,” Cygnus grumbled.  Still, he made no move to stop her._

_“Don’t let me fall, Daddy!” Narcissa squeaked.  She tightened her arms around his leg and buried her face against his trouser leg._

_After a moment’s hesitation, he laid his hand on her shoulder, steadying her._

* * *

 

_“Your parents have no idea what a beautiful individual they’re harming by treating you so harshly,” said Lucius softly, looking directly into her eyes despite her lack of clothing for the first time in his presence.  “You deserve better.  You truly are beautiful, inside and out,” he breathed.  “Like a white rose: pure, elegant, delicate, and perfect in every way.”_

_Lucius smiled once again, and Narcissa found herself smiling, as well.  That was truly how he saw her? She was overwhelmed by love and gratitude._

_“My rose,” he said._

* * *

_“You will not walk away from me, Narcissa Elladora Black.”_

_“I will.  You have no power over me, and I am counting the days until I no longer bear your name.”_

_Cygnus gave her shoulder a hard shove into the wooden paneling.  Narcissa sucked in a sharp breath, unprepared for the pain that surged over her shoulder blade and outward as the pressure increased with each second._

_“How dare you speak to me that way!” Keeping one hand on her shoulder, her father used the other to reach for his wand._

_Narcissa’s pulse roared in her ears as she quickly groped for her own wand within the pocket of her cloak, and she watched her father’s lips begin to form the Unforgivable Curse._

* * *

_Lucius had cleaned the wounds from her unbelievably foolish attempt to Apparate away from her father.  He’d been caked in her blood, as he’d refused to let her go.  He’d moved just long enough to and he’d returned with his bloodied shirt removed and a clean one for her to change into, after her dress had been so mangled and stained with crimson._

_Every inch of her ached as though she might fall apart at any second, but Narcissa did her best not to show it.  Lucius’s touch was gentle as he helped her out of her torn clothing and washed every last trace of blood from her skin with the rag he’d brought from the bathroom before helping her into his shirt.  After he’d disposed of the rag, he climbed into bed beside her._

_“Everything is going to be all right,” he said as he pulled her close and drew the blankets up over them._

_Narcissa rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arm around him, trying to hold back her pained hisses but finding it impossible to do so completely.  She didn’t want to hurt him further by letting him know pained she still was.  He’d done far more than she could’ve ever dared to ask of him, and yet here he was, eager to continue to help._ I don’t deserve him, _she thought._

_“Thank you.” She closed her eyes.  “I’m supposed to be the one healing you.  I’m sorry.”_

_“Narcissa, I am going to spend my life doing everything I can to keep you safe.”_

* * *

Only a few moments had passed while she’d been lost to her recollections, but already, tears were dripping from her eyes and onto the front of Lucius’s robes.  She leaned down and buried her face against his chest. 

            “No,” she breathed, shaking her head vigorously.  “Maybe I should be.  Part of me… part of me has to love him, for who he used to be.  Who I wanted him to be, what our relationship could’ve been.  But you saw the truth, and you did what I never had the strength to.  No matter how you did it, Luc, you saved me, and I’m… I can’t be angry with you.  I love you too much.”

            His breath rattled in his chest as he let out a heavy sigh that sounded closer to a sob, and she used every ounce of strength she possessed to help him up and onto the chaise as she began calling out for Seraphina. 


	50. Chapter Fifty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius struggles with what he's done, and Aurors visit Malfoy Manor looking for Narcissa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the delay.  College and directing/appearing in a play have been consuming my time, but now that all of that is over until the spring, I’ll have more time to write.

As he watched his mother heal and clean the deep tear Cygnus’s _Diffindo_ had left in his flesh, Lucius knew he should be in terrible pain.  Perhaps he was, but his mind was too fogged to quantify or process it properly, and so as Seraphina worked, Lucius stole glances at his healing wound now and then when he removed his focus from the portrait on the study’s north wall.  Within the frame, Malfoy Manor stood stoic and peaceful, oblivious to the tension and anxiety filling its real-life counterpart. 

            “Cissy, dear, could you please go and tell Dobby what you’d like for supper?” asked Seraphina.  “Anything you fancy—I’ve no preference.”

            Lucius looked from his mother to Narcissa, who nodded.  Her face was several shades paler than normal, and she seemed to have difficulty standing from her spot on the floor beside the chaise.

            Guilt twisted Lucius’s stomach.  _I did this to her,_ he thought.  _This is my fault._ He gave his head a tight shake.

            “Call the elf here,” he said.  His throat was dry, and his voice left it hoarse.  “You don’t need to—”

            “I’ll be all right.  I need air.  I’ll come right back—I’ll bring you tea.” Narcissa squeezed his hand and departed for the corridor.

            When she’d gone, Lucius looked back to his mother, who was watching him with her lips pressed into a tight line.

            “Tell me,” she said at last.  “All of it.”

            “You already know.  Don’t you?” Lucius’s tone was soft, the conviction it had held a moment before all but evaporated.

            “From this—” Seraphina glanced to the healed would and back to his face.  “—and the fact that you’ve both clearly been crying, I’d say so.  But I want to know why.”

            Lucius pulled in a long breath.  “Because I love her too much to let him keep hurting her.  Because I’m angry—because I’m furious.  Mum, Narcissa deserves the world.  She deserves so much better than being pushed around by Cygnus.  She deserves to be safe, to be able to stay here with us or go home if she chooses without being afraid her own father will turn his wand on her.” The thought made Lucius’s blood boil, and he swallowed hard.  “Besides, the Dark Lord wanted me to kill someone.  Now I have, of my own will, and now he has no reason to force me to hurt anyone I love again.”

            Seraphina blinked and looked down at her folded hands in her lap, and Lucius felt another sickening pang of guilt as an image of his father falling to his Cruciatus Curse passed through his mind.

            “Sorry, Mum,” he muttered.

            Seraphina shook her head.  “Don’t be.  You’re right.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

            _How did we get here?_ thought Lucius.  _Six months ago, I wouldn’t have dared—I wouldn’t have so much as thought of doing something like this._

He pulled in a long breath.  It didn’t matter what had led him here, not now.  It only mattered what happened next and how he handled the situation.  He had to deal with the consequences of his actions in a way that would make his mother proud—that would’ve made his father proud. 

            “If the Ministry comes poking about,” he began slowly, “Narcissa never went home.  She only saw Cygnus; Druella would have no idea she was there unless he told her, and if you and I both state that she was here all along, Minister Jenkins will believe us over Druella.”

            Seraphina opened her eyes and studied her son.  Lucius’s heart sank at the resignation in the set of her lips. 

            _She thinks I’ve become one of them already.  Have I? Asking my own mother and my own fiancée to lie to cover up a murder I committed?_

Murder. 

            The word crashed over him with such intensity that he had to grip the arm of the chaise to keep himself from falling from it. 

            _It wasn’t murder,_ he told himself.  _It was an act of protection.  Of love._

            But would Narcissa continue to see it that way? What would she think of him, when she’d had more time to process? Would she grow to fear him?

            “Lucius.  Look at me.”

            Seraphina’s voice drew him from his thoughts, and he forced his focus to return to her face. 

            “It’s going to be fine, love,” she said softly.  “Come here.”

            She pulled him into her arms, and though he returned her embrace, he did not allow himself to relax or close his eyes. 

            A loud knock at the front door sent a wave of ice cold fear through every cell of Lucius’s body.  He tightened his grip on his mother, who drew herself up straighter and kissed his temple before pulling back and getting to her feet. 

            “Quickly,” she muttered, passing him the clean shirt she’d laid on the table for him to change into after his wound had stopped bleeding.  As he pulled it on and buttoned it, she took the bloodied shirt he’d worn to the Blacks’ and stowed it in a cabinet Lucius was fairly certain was filled with his father’s supply of alcohol.

            Within moments, the elf had appeared at the door.

            “Mistress, Young Master,” said Dobby, bowing hastily to each of them, “you have visitors from the Ministry.”

            Lucius’s mouth went dry, and as he stood from the chaise, he felt his limbs were made of lead. 

            “Bring them in,” said Seraphina calmly. 

            Dobby bowed once more and returned to the corridor, and Lucius attempted to slow his pulse.  At the moment, his heart was beating so rapidly he thought it might leap up his throat and out of his mouth.  He exchanged glances with his mother, and when she gave him a slight nod, he felt the slightest bit reassured. 

            _She’ll corroborate the story.  We’ll be fine._

            A pair of crimson-robed Aurors strode into the study.  Each of them wore a grave expression, and each inclined his head to the two Malfoys. 

            “Lady Malfoy,” said the taller Auror, whose light hair fell just past his chin.  “And is this your son? My, he’s grown,” he added when Seraphina nodded.  “Savage.  Richard Savage.” He offered his hand to her and to Lucius in turn before returning his focus to Seraphina.  “I believe we’ve met in passing, but I was more acquainted with your husband.  I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

            “Thank you,” said Seraphina with a nod.  “And to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

            “I’m afraid it’s regarding another loss,” said Savage.  “We were told we might find Narcissa Black here.  We’d like to speak with her.”

            “I’ll go and get her,” said Lucius.  He passed the Aurors and departed the study.  Relief crashed over him—if he managed to catch Narcissa before the Aurors found her, he could ensure that she knew the story he planned to tell them. 

            He nearly swore aloud when he’d only made it three paces from the study and nearly knocked her over, tea tray and all.  She stumbled, and he reached out to steady her with one hand and secure the teapot with the other. 

            “Is everything all right out there?” called the voice of Savage. 

            Lucius met Narcissa’s eyes as they widened in fear.  He gave his head a slight shake and leaned close to kiss her cheek.

            “It’s going to be okay,” he breathed.  “You never went home.  We don’t know anything.”

            She gave a nearly imperceptible nod, and together, they returned to the study.

            “Miss Black,” greeted Savage.  “I’m very sorry to have to seek you out under these circumstances.”

            “Circumstances?” Narcissa repeated.  She set the tea tray down on the table and returned to Lucius’s side, shaking Savage’s hand before taking Lucius’s arm.  “What do you mean?”

            _She’s a natural._

            Lucius didn’t know whether to be proud or unsettled by how easily Narcissa pretended to have no knowledge of the situation. 

            “Miss Black…” Savage drew in a breath and released it.  “I’m afraid your father has been killed.”

            Narcissa’s grip tightened on Lucius’s arm, and she swayed just slightly on her feet.  Lucius reached out to catch her waist as his heart pounded so loudly he feared everyone present could hear it.  Savage rested a hand on Narcissa’s shoulder, and when she moved for the chaise, Lucius followed and sat beside her without releasing his grip on her.

            “How?” she asked, her voice constricted with emotion. 

Lucius watched her face, and he immediately understood.  The tears filling her eyes once again were real—she was using the opportunity to release the feelings she’d been suppressing for the sake of ensuring he was safe before allowing them into the air.  He doubted she would be able to come to terms with all of this completely for a while.  He certainly hadn’t come to terms with the loss of his father, yet, and that situation had been much more straightforward. 

“The Killing Curse, or so we believe,” said Savage.  “His wand was nearby, as though he’d dropped it, and your mother reported seeing a flash of green light.”

            _Hell._

“Who would want to hurt my father?” asked Narcissa, frowning. 

            “That’s what we wanted to ask you.” Savage moved closer to the chaise as his counterpart stood sentinel at the door, and Seraphina lingered beside the liquor cabinet.  “Is there anyone who might’ve had reason to harm him? Anyone who held ill-will?”

            “I… I have no idea.  I’m sorry.  I haven’t been living at home—I haven’t heard anything from my parents, lately.”

            Savage nodded slowly.  “I see.  And why haven’t you been living with your parents?”

            “I’ve been recently emancipated,” said Narcissa.  “Lucius and I are getting married, and we’ve been doing a fair bit of planning.  I’m trying to get used to what my life is going to be like after the wedding, and so I’ve been spending more time with his family than my own.  I’ll be living here, after all, and after Abraxas fell ill… I felt it was more prudent for me to stay.”

            _She doesn’t miss a beat.  Merlin, she’s good at this._

“And you’ve been here for the last two days?”

            “With Lucius and Seraphina,” said Narcissa smoothly.

            “I understand.” Savage sighed.  “We’ll contact you the instant we know anything more.  And again, we’re dreadfully sorry.” He glanced from Narcissa to Lucius and back, and Lucius knew what he must be thinking.  Both of their fathers in such a short time? They had to be the least fortunate couple in Britain. 

            At the moment, though, Lucius felt like the luckiest man alive.  Narcissa had not only stood by him, she’d lied to the Aurors in his defense.  He had no idea how to repay her.

            Savage started toward the door, and he paused when he’d made it halfway to where his companion stood.  He inclined his head to the other man, who slipped out into the corridor.

            “I nearly forgot,” said Savage, looking back to Narcissa.  “We’ve had to inform your whole family, and one of them insisted on joining us to speak with you.  I hope you don’t mind.”

            _Not Druella.  Anyone but Druella._

            Lucius gave Narcissa’s waist a squeeze, and she frowned as she glanced from him to Savage.  A moment later, the other Auror returned and shifted to the side to allow Andromeda to enter the study.    


	51. Chapter Fifty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa wrestles with what to tell Andromeda about their father's death.

If it weren’t for Lucius’s arm around her, Narcissa was certain she would’ve lost her balance.  She kept her focus on Andromeda and did her best not to lose the composure she’d so painstakingly kept in place for the Aurors.  She’d been rather proud of herself, but now, it was incredibly tempting to crumble. 

            _I don’t know if I can lie to her._

Narcissa’s heart pounded so quickly and viciously she was certain she would become ill.  She glanced to Seraphina, wondering whether the Malfoy matriarch shared her husband’s views on Andromeda’s dishonor, and when Seraphina only smiled and inclined her head politely, the tight knot constricting Narcissa’s chest eased a bit.

            Narcissa returned her focus to her sister.  Andromeda’s mouth was set in a tight, cautious line, and her stomach protruded somewhat, which led Narcissa to wonder how far along her sister was in pregnancy.  Andromeda’s posture was tense, and though her eyes were reddened, she no longer appeared to be despairing over the news.

            “Would you care for tea, Andromeda?” asked Seraphina.

            “No, thank you,” Andromeda said quietly.

            Seraphina nodded.  “Shall we let them talk in peace?” She started for the door and gestured the Aurors out with her as she stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind them.

            Narcissa exchanged glances with Lucius, who had gone pale.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Andromeda spoke first.

            “You stay.”

            Lucius’s shoulders stiffened.  Narcissa slipped out from under his arm, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and led him to the chaise, where they sat across from Andromeda, who perched uncertainly at the edge of the armchair by the dormant hearth. 

            Silence filled the room.  As she watched Andromeda fidget with her shirt sleeve, Narcissa wondered whether a silence between the two of them had ever felt so oppressive. 

            “How have you been?”

            Narcissa was so startled by Lucius’s voice being the first to enter the air that she dizzied herself turning to look at him.  His expression was blank.

            “Today notwithstanding, I mean,” he continued.

            “Fair,” said Andromeda with a light shrug.  “My condolences on... your father.” She sighed and closed her eyes. 

            Narcissa’s mouth went dry.  The brief attempt to divert the conversation from the problem at hand had failed far more quickly than she'd anticipated.

            “I want the truth.” Andromeda opened her eyes and held her sister’s gaze, and Narcissa tried her hardest not to falter.  “I want to know who killed him.”

            “Andi, we don’t—”

            “I don’t believe you, Cissy.  But I don’t think you understand.” Andromeda pulled in a long breath.  “If either of you had anything to do with this or if you know who did, I’ll make sure Ted keeps the Aurors from sniffing in that direction.”

            Narcissa blinked.   _She’s not serious.  She can’t be._

            “I know what he was capable of.” As Andromeda continued, her eyes and the set of her jaw grew hard.  “If he... If he had it coming, I’m not going to let the person who stopped him be punished for it.”

            Lucius’s grip on Narcissa’s hand tightened, and she ran her thumb slowly along his knuckles, hoping to reassure him.  Still, she kept her eyes on Andromeda’s, searching them for any sign of deception. 

_When did I stop being able to trust you?_

            She pushed the thought from her mind and held her silence.  She needed more of a sign than a squeeze of the hand to tell her how to handle this.  She truly had no desire to lie to her sister, but she would not expose what Lucius had done without his permission. 

            She counted at least three beats of her heart between each tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. 

            “What say does your husband have in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” Lucius’s voice was smooth, betraying no emotion as he spoke. 

            “He’s an Auror.  He hasn’t been there terribly long, but if he says he’s investigated a particular person and cleared them, then the others will listen.”

            Narcissa glanced from her fiancé to her sister and back, watching as the two of them stared unblinkingly at one another.  

 _Thank the gods Bella isn’t here,_ she thought with an inward sigh.  Surely Bellatrix would return sooner rather than later, after being dismissed so quickly by Narcissa and undoubtedly learning what had become of their father from the Aurors, but for the moment, Narcissa found it necessary to compartmentalize her problems in order to best them. 

            “I did it.”

            At Lucius’s words, Narcissa’s stomach rolled.  She had no idea whether she would ever truly become used to the idea that Lucius had killed her father.  Now, each time she heard the words or allowed herself to think on the idea for too long, she felt ill. She couldn’t explain the feeling; she had no reason to miss Cygnus or to mourn him, apart from childhood memories so long-gone she doubted her father had even recalled them before his death.  Perhaps, she reasoned, it was the idea that she had been complicit in the crime that she could not reconcile.  Lucius had been right to act in her defense, but should Narcissa not have acted on her own behalf in a way that had allowed Cygnus to repent, instead of telling him enough of her father's crimes to make Lucius feel as though this were the only solution? No matter how terrible a man Cygnus had been, should his daughter not have tried to find another solution?   
Narcissa shoved her doubts to the farthest corners of her mind and watched as understanding flickered over her sister’s features.  

            She expected a long-winded moralizing statement, but instead, Andromeda simply asked, “Why?”

            “I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting Narcissa any longer.” Lucius gave a rigid shrug.

            Silence settled over the room like a blanket Narcissa feared might suffocate them all, if it lay still for too long. 

            “One of us had to do something to help her,” said Lucius at last, his eyes boring into Andromeda. 

            Narcissa’s grip tightened on Lucius’s hand.  She knew he still faulted Andromeda for leaving with Ted and abandoning her to deal with their parents alone, but this was far from the time to irritate the only person who might be able to help them hide their trail. 

            Andromeda watched Lucius, and her eyes flashed angrily.  With a sigh, she looked to Narcissa. 

            “If it’s what you want,” she said, “I will make sure Ted leads the Aurors away from all of you.”

            Narcissa released Lucius’s hand and stood.  Her steps were cautious as she made her way over to her sister.  She leaned down and embraced Andromeda tightly, and after a moment, she felt the tension that had shot through Andromeda at the touch ease.

            “Thank you,” Narcissa said softly. 

            “I’m glad to help you,” Andromeda muttered.

            Narcissa pulled back and returned to her seat, and she took Lucius’s hand between both of her own. 

            “I don’t know exactly where this means the Ministry will take their investigation,” Andromeda admitted.  “I don’t want it pinned on anyone who wasn’t involved.”

            “Nor do I,” said Lucius with a shake of his head. 

            “What about Mother?” asked Narcissa.  “What is she going to do? We know Father wasn’t her soulmate, but she had to feel _something_ for him _,_ didn’t she? Won’t she want to push the Ministry until they give her an answer and punish someone? I don’t know if we can just lead them down a cold trail.”

            “I’m sure Father had a lot of enemies,” said Andromeda.  She drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair and watched the motion, evidently deep in thought.  “I suppose if the consensus is that it could’ve been any one of a number of people, they won’t be able to keep pushing.”

            “That helps a bit,” said Lucius with a sigh.

            “People have known what kind of man Cygnus Black was for a very long time,” said Andromeda.  “He’s used the Dark Arts to his advantage since before we were all born, and he never hesitated to use them against people who upset him or people he couldn’t control.  I don’t think he’ll be missed by many.”

            Though Narcissa knew her sister was right, the words still pressed her to the back of her seat as she recoiled from them.  _No one would want to be remembered that way._

            “I feel like I should regret this,” Andromeda went on, “but I… I think I’ll sleep a little better at night, now.  Honestly, I’m surprised it took so long.”

            “I dare you to say that again.”

            The voice from the doorway was low and deadly. 

            Narcissa turned in her seat to see Bellatrix standing on the threshold, her wand raised and directed at Andromeda’s heart. 

            “Bella,” Andromeda began slowly, “put it—”

            With one flick of her wrist, Bellatrix deployed a burst of red energy from her wand.  The spell hit Andromeda with enough force to knock her chair backward and send her crashing to the floor behind it.


	52. Chapter Fifty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius attempts to keep Narcissa out of her sisters' crossfire.

Lucius’s heart jumped into his throat as he watched the jet of light slam into Andromeda.  He squeezed Narcissa’s hand in an attempt to keep her from intervening, but the gesture was in vain, just as he’d suspected it would be.  Narcissa shook off his hand and took a step toward her sisters, her arms raised, and Lucius moved to her side as he produced his wand. 

            “Bella, stop—”

            “Did you not _hear_ her, Cissy?” Bellatrix demanded.  Her eyes were wild and more full of fury than Lucius had ever seen them, and for the first time, he believed her capable of harming both of her sisters. 

            “She hasn’t done anything wrong!” Narcissa cried.  “Listen to reason, for once!”

            “ _She killed our father!_ ”

            Bellatrix flicked her wrist, and Narcissa flew backward.  Lucius dove to the floor and ignored the pain that surged up his arm from the contact, focusing his energy instead on catching his fiancée and keeping her from a hard landing.  He grunted as her elbow slammed into his ribs, but he managed to stop her head from hitting the wood. 

            “What the hell are you talking about?” asked Andromeda from the other side of the room. 

            Lucius saw her shift in his periphery.  Still, he kept his focus on Narcissa, who blinked and met his eyes.

            “She’s gone mad,” she muttered.

            “Wasn’t she always?”

            At the sound of a loud crash, Lucius looked up to see that a displaced spell had knocked over his father’s favorite armchair.

            Narcissa gave a noncommittal shrug and started to sit up, and Lucius tensed.

            “Please don’t get between them,” he insisted.  “You don’t need to get hurt again, Cissy.”

            “I didn’t go near our father!”

            Andromeda’s shout drew Narcissa’s attention away from Lucius, and he followed her gaze back to her sisters.  Each had her wand drawn and stared at the other with unconcealed hatred.  Andromeda’s shirt was singed from the impact of Bellatrix’s spell, and Bellatrix’s wand arm hung limp at her side, evidently impaired by a curse Lucius hadn’t seen.  She’d transferred her wand to her other hand, and Lucius wondered how effective she would be with it.

            “All I said, all you heard,” Andromeda continued, is that he had a lot of enemies and I’m surprised no one attacked him sooner.”

            “Who was it, then?” demanded Bellatrix.  “Your filthy Mudblood husband?”

            “Not another word about him!” Andromeda flicked her wrist, and Bellatrix flew backward and crashed into the wall just beside the open door. 

            _Mother’s going to hear,_ thought Lucius.  _She can’t come in here.  I won’t let them hurt her.  And I need to get Cissy out before she can get in the crossfire._ He had no personal stake in this fight; he wasn’t particularly fond of either of his fiancée’s sisters.  He had only to ensure Narcissa and his mother were safe.

            “Both of you, enough!” Narcissa scrambled to her feet.  “Neither of you is at fault—you didn’t hurt Father.  It was my—”

            “Maybe we should have,” said Andromeda coldly.

            “Shut up!” Bellatrix screamed.

            An explosion of magical force burst from her wand and slammed into Andromeda’s stomach. 

            “No!” shouted Narcissa.  She threw herself at Andromeda, struggling to catch her sister as she collapsed. 

            Lucius made a dash for his wand where he’d left it on the floor beside the desk.  He then rounded on Bellatrix.

            “Get out,” he growled.  “Now.”

            “Are you defending the blood traitor, Lucius? What Narcissa sees in you, I’ll—”

            “I’m defending _your pregnant sister,_ whom you’ve just injured in an emotional fit.  Get _out._ ”

            Bellatrix watched him, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly with her breaths.  Lucius didn’t so much as flinch.

            “Get out of my house,” he ordered.

            Bellatrix turned on her heel and strode out of the study. 

            “Luc.  Luc, she’s bleeding.”

            Lucius looked down at Narcissa and Andromeda.  Narcissa was leaning over her sister, who had fully lost consciousness where she lay on the floor.  Andromeda’s legs were covered in blood.    

            “Oh, Merlin,” Lucius mumbled.  “Stay with her.  I’ll get Mother.”

            He turned on his heel and darted out into the corridor.


	53. Chapter Fifty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa confronts the consequences of her allegiance through Andromeda.

**_A/N: I’m working to finish HSS._ ** **Light in Oblivion _has been removed, as I’m turning it into a novel.  If you want to read my other novels, short story collections, etc., check out my Twitter (my username is MandiJourdan). I would love to connect with readers of my fics and introduce them to my original fiction, including a sci-fi novel I'm putting on as a play in a few months._**

* * *

 

Narcissa sat at her sister’s bedside.  In her darkest nightmares, she’d never imagined what her life had now become.  Her father was dead, her fiancé responsible for his murder.  Abraxas was gone, as well, and Lucius seemed to be losing more of himself by the day.  Andromeda lay pale and unconscious in a bed at St. Mungo’s, and Bellatrix had been the catalyst. 

            _Nothing can be simple.  Nothing can be easy._

The Healers had only allowed in one person, and Narcissa knew Lucius and Seraphina awaited news down the hall.  She would return to them eventually.  Perhaps when Andromeda awoke, she would tell her to leave.  In her sister’s place, Narcissa had no idea what she would do.  They had been so close to mending at least a portion of the brokenness between them.  Andromeda had wanted to _help,_ to lead the Ministry away from Lucius in their search for Cygnus’s killer. 

            Narcissa let out a heavy sigh, trying to push some of the pain out of her body.  She lowered her head into her hands.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  “I’m sorry, Andi.  I never wanted you to get hurt.”

            Several minutes that felt more like hours passed in silence, and then rapid footsteps drew her attention to the doorway.  Ted paused on the threshold, his eyes wide and his hair tousled, as though he’d been running for a long while.  He looked older than he should have.  When his gaze landed on his wife, his eyes filled with tears. 

            “Ted, I can’t begin to—”

            “You can’t, can you?”

            His voice was hard, and at the sound of it, the rest of Narcissa’s words died in her throat.  Her eyes stung, and she fought back the tears that wanted to fall.  She couldn’t crumble now. 

            Ted moved forward and paused at Andromeda’s side, laying his hand on her cheek and leaning close to press his lips to her forehead.  They lingered there for several moments, and at last, Narcissa had to turn away from the sight in order to keep her tenuous grip on her emotions. 

            “Bellatrix?”

            She nodded stiffly.  “I’m sorry.  Ted, I’m so sorry.”

            As the tears broke free at last, she looked up at him to find him watching her.  The ire in his expression eased away, and he closed his eyes.  When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

            “I don’t think you understand all this, Narcissa.  Not fully.  If you did, you wouldn’t be aligning yourself with the wrong side.”

            The words twisted her stomach, and she gripped the arms of the chair tightly. 

            “I don’t have a choice,” she breathed.  “If it were her who—who served _him,_ what would you do?”

            They stared at one another in silence.  Narcissa wondered whether he could truly answer her, could give her some escape route that she hadn’t seen.  Was there a way she could take Lucius and run, escape from the Dark Lord and everything he wanted her fiancé to become? Everything Bellatrix had already become?

            Ted shook his head and settled into the vacant chair on Andromeda’s other side. 

            “She wouldn’t serve him,” he said. 

            Narcissa stared at the white wall behind her brother-in-law.  “No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”

            The seconds ticked by until she could stand the quiet no longer.  The question that had plagued her bubbled up within her at last, and she couldn’t hold it inside.

            “Is the baby all right?”

            Ted inhaled and released the breath, his body rising and falling with the motion. 

            “Yes.  By some miracle.”

            Narcissa choked on a sob and wiped the tears from her cheeks, allowing herself a small smile.  She had feared the worst.

            “It was close, Narcissa.  Very close.  That amount of blood…” Ted shook his head.  “I saw the Healer on the way in.  He says it’s lucky ‘the attacker’ didn’t know she was pregnant, or maybe the spell would’ve landed differently.”

            “She’s out of control.  I tried to talk her down.  She wouldn’t listen to a word.”

            “And she never will.” Ted studied his wife’s peaceful face and then returned his focus to Narcissa, and her heart missed a beat when she caught sight of the fire in his eyes.  “I’m sorry.  But I don’t think it’s within Andromeda’s best interest or that of our daughter for any of you to remain in our lives any longer.”

            Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come.  She stared at Ted, willing him to understand that she had never wanted even a bit of this. 

            “Please,” she managed at last, the word coming out barely formed through her tears.

            He turned away from her, fixing his eyes on his wife. 

            “Leave us.  Please.”

            Trembling, Narcissa pushed herself to her feet.  She took a final look at her sister—damaged, yes, but alive, her child still alive—and turned for the door.

 

* * *

 

The moment she returned to the waiting room, she told Lucius and Seraphina that they needed to leave, and though they looked thoroughly confused, they didn’t argue with her.  Within minutes, they had returned the Manor, and Narcissa rushed for Lucius’s room without pausing for so much as a backward glance. 

            She didn’t register that he was following her until he caught her wrist just inside the bedroom doorway, and suddenly, the muffled shouts she’d half-processed made more sense. 

            “Cissy, look at me, please.”

            She turned to face him, and at the sight of the concern in his eyes—the love—she crumbled.  She threw her arms around him as sobs wracked her body, and he held her so tightly she thought they both might break and shatter into pieces, and she thought that maybe that would be easier than this.  Everything was falling away, leaving her.  Everything but him. 

            She clung to his shirt until her knuckles went white.  She wept against the white material, no care for the smudges of makeup she left behind.  He kissed her hair, her cheeks, her lips.  Mumbled reassurances and promises of love. 

            Narcissa cried until her face ached along with her lungs.  She had no idea when she and Lucius had collapsed on the floor halfway into the room or how long they had been here.

            “Ted said it’s better if we’re all out of her life,” she muttered, still leaning against his chest.  She felt him inhale.

            “He’s wrong,” said Lucius quietly.  “At least when it comes to you.  I know how much you love her, Cissy.”

            “But that isn’t enough, is it? I’m a danger to her simply by being here, being with you.” She plowed onward quickly, not wanting him to misunderstand.  “I’m never _not_ going to be with you, Luc.  Never.”

            She looked up, meeting the grey eyes she loved. 

            “I don’t want you to be hurt,” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word. 

            “I know.  I know you don’t.”

            She thought of the resentment that had been simmering within her ever since she’d lied to the Auror.  The words had come to her so easily—the urge to protect Lucius over all else had consumed her, and a small part of her hated how reflexive it had been.  She was willing to leave her life behind for him.  She supposed it was more fear than resentment; what would she become, if she gave herself fully to this war and what she would have to do in order to survive it with her new family intact?

            With a long, shaky breath, she forced her fears away and allowed herself to embrace the excitement lurking beneath them, no matter how hard it was to focus on while the pain of losing her sister still constricted her lungs.  She wanted this life—she wanted life with Lucius, no matter the cost. 

            “As soon as I finish my last term,” she began, “I want to marry you.  I’m ready to be a Malfoy.”

            A smile crept onto his lips, and then they met hers.  His fingertips skimmed her back, where his patronus lay beneath her dress.


End file.
